A Time for Rain
by TheWitch'sCat
Summary: What does it mean to be 'a child of both worlds? What happens when you find yourself in another world, with the chance your lover might still be alive? A sort-of sequel to Black & White.
1. Chapter 1: A Time to Mourn

**I've done some editing and reworking on this one. 1/26/10**

**Notes: This is a sequel to Black and White, and should be read as such.  
****This story assumes some characters and events from Black and White. Go read that one first. Here's some cheats if you don't:**

**Nyalana - Winkie girl; Besnik - Dog; Sun - Quadling; Zaar - Black Cat, Malky's daughter. All are members of Elphie's 'cell' in the Resistance. Eliana - a young maunt who made a difference in Elphie's life.**

***Shameless plug...my Elphaba site is now up and going at IAMELPHABAdotCOM. (Written so fanfiction won't delete it.) Check it out for pics of my Act II dress.**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 1: A Time to Mourn**

The odd menagerie trekked mostly in silence, lost in their own thoughts. To passerby, they seemed the most unlikely grouping of souls. Yet with the Wizard suddenly departed, there was little reason for them to be questioned. The potential for mayhem in the Emerald City was too great for the Gale Force to be concerned with what happened somewhere along the treacherous slopes of Kumbricia's pass.

Nyalana carried Malky, as he was far too frail to make such a journey on his own paws. His twentieth birthday was near, yet he was determined to make this journey. He had staunchly protested staying behind, knowing he could not go to his grave without attempting to say goodbye to her. Besnik trotted faithfully beside Sun, as the fading light brought out the grey in the fur around his face.

Zaar led the way, having a great working knowledge of Oz from her years in the Palace. She knew the ins and outs of the political alliances between the tribes that made the Vinkus their home. She had a great command of language, and could negotiate with the fluidity of a seasoned politician. Malky was proud of her, even when she had birthed a litter of kittens, yet refused to name the father. Her job demanded secrecy, she'd argued, and the fate of Fiyero was always fresh in her mind. The Wizard's sudden departure had allowed Malky to see his three grandchildren together, in the same place, for the first time. It had made him feel warm and full, and somewhat satisfied with his difficult life.

"We should bear northeast here, up the ridge," Nyalana spoke up, recognizing the landmarks from her childhood. She surprised herself, with how much she remembered from more than fourteen years prior. Zaar fell back, letting the Winkie girl take over in the place she knew so well.

It was three more days before the gates of Kiamo Ko came into view. They stood, marveling at the sheer size and stillness of it. Nyalana approached it first, and led them around to the mammoth, heavy doors of its entrance. Sun pulled one open, and they filtered in to the dark, echoing castle one by one.

They trudged silently, weary and suddenly overcome by emotion at the task before them. In the parlor just off the kitchen sat a weather-worn old woman, babbling illogically to herself as she rocked. Nyalana tried to rouse her, tried to bring her into the present and wrestle some of the story from her, but she was too far gone. For the moment, at least, the woman could tell them nothing of Fae.

So they made their way up the winding staircases, inspecting the rooms and wondering at the odd assortment of people that must have lived in this great palace. High in a narrow tower, they found what must have been her room. It had a chaos that spoke of the strange, green woman they had known. Papers were scattered, books left open, strange scribblings were tossed around, and a glistening, glass orb was the room's centerpiece. Nyalana set Malky down, and on shaky legs he padded over to where Elphaba's cloak was slung across the bed. With great effort, he heaved himself onto it and took in the scent of her. He curled his frail body up amongst the ebony folds of it and remembered all that had been Elphie. His heart ached, and they left him there with his personal mourning and memories. The rest of them made their way up another staircase to the highest parapet.

At the door, Nyalana paused, and Sun took her hand, compassion in his eyes. Besnik nudged open the door and Zaar slipped in ahead of them. They shuffled into the small space and froze, taking in the scene.

The room held the sick smell of doused flame and burnt flesh, mixed with the coldness of mildew from the steadily leaking roof. The meager furniture had been upset, as if in a struggle. Yet there was the overwhelming absence of a body. Nyalana dared to peer into the dark corners, unsure what she hoped, or didn't hope, to find.

"She's not here," Zaar finally stated, flatly.

The others nodded quietly, perplexed, saddened, and overwhelmed in the same moment.

"It's just not possible…why would anyone have taken her?" Nyalana's voice cracked a little as she struggled to understand.

"None of us knows what would have happened to her had she been hit with that much water. We can't say what would be…left."

Nyalana turned away at Zaar's words, unable to imagine the pain her friend had endured. She crossed the room and stared out at the great mountains, undulating out from Kiamo Ko until they became the plains of the grasslands. She bit her lip, having wanted desperately to say goodbye, to find some reason or justification for what had happened. And yet it was senselessness again. Fae was gone, utterly and completely gone, her death as mysterious as her origin. She hadn't even lived to see the departure of the Wizard, for which she'd fought so hard. Disappointed and confused, they trudged silently back down the stairs, each lost in his own unsettled thoughts.

In Elphaba's room, Nyalana went to rouse Malky. They were all hungry, and she saw no reason why they couldn't stay here for the night before the long journey back. Yet Malky could not be roused. He was quite still, his glorious green eyes closed, as if in sleep, his mouth curled in a contented smile. He looked snow white against the black folds of Elphie's cape. Nyalana let her tears fall now, weeping for Fae and touched by the significance of what Malky had done. He had wanted to die here, where Elphie had gone. He had closed his eyes surrounded by everything that had been Elphaba, and had left this world amidst the wild scent of her.

Zaar knew what had happened the moment she entered the room. She was very still for some time, and then went to her father and nuzzled his face for the last time.

They buried him there in the gardens of Kiamo Ko, where the lilies grew plentifully and the grasses were as emerald as Elphie had been. Zaar held her head high and sang for him, sang so much like Fae it frightened Nyalana a little.

Caught up in the emotion of it all, Sun entwined his fingers with Nyalana's, while he lovingly stroked Besnik's fur. She smiled a little at the Quadling, grateful, and realized for the first time how much he meant to her.

They stood for a long time, staring at the soaring, shadowy stone of the castle, each trying to bid an appropriate farewell to someone who deserved so much better than what she had been given. And then they left to face their lives, uncertain as to what a future without the Wizard would hold.

Somewhere else, someplace very far, yet very near, Elphaba opened her eyes.

The clock ticked, time spun and stopped. The universe fractured slightly, and time and space reset themselves. Life is a cycle, a series of cycles. Life is circular. The end is often the beginning.

For Elphaba, the end had become a beginning.


	2. Chapter 2: A Time to Be Born

**Chapter 2: A Time to Be Born**

Elphaba's eyes fluttered, trying to focus and make sense of the light and shadows around her. Gradually, blurry shapes found their definite form and became trees above her. The sky took on a shade of blue, and sounds became more than undefined, echoing hums. She could hear a bird's song, and the distant pecking of a determined woodpecker. She dared to twitch her fingers, and she found they responded. The grass beneath her was smooth and soft, and smelled of new growth and the richness of harvest. Elphaba lay for a long while, pulling herself from the dark, thick fog that, for the last several months, had filled her and clouded her senses. She took deep breaths of clean, crisp air until she no longer felt that she was removed from her body, no longer watching herself spiral into insanity.

She moved her arms to wrap them around her slender body. Her skin tingled, burning slightly at her own touch. She realized the sensation encompassed her entire body, as though she'd come through flames or laid too long in the sun. Elphaba also realized she was entirely naked.

With labored movements, she sat up, looking around fearfully for anyone who might be about to stumble upon a weak, naked, green woman. She examined her hands, flexing her fingers to stretch out joints that felt tight and unused. She touched her face, finding the skin to be soft and sensitive to the touch, like a baby who has just emerged from the womb. The pins and ties that held her hair were gone, and the long, black locks spilled over her shoulders and surrounded her body. Elphaba winced a little, as even the delicate touch of her hair was too much for her tender skin.

She looked herself over in the soft, filtered light beneath the trees. She saw her body, green as sin and too thin for most people's liking. Yet there was something off, something new or changed, or perhaps just reborn. Even the soft light stung her, and she let her hair fall around her like a dark, flowing shield. Elphaba sat there for quite some time, trying to fit her thoughts together into a coherent pattern, trying to make sense out of where she was.

She supposed it could have been a dream. The turmoil of the past few years could have been a horrific nightmare from which she'd finally awakened. Yet how much of it had she dreamed? Where could she draw the line between reality and fantasy? The sting of Fiyero's death was certainly real. Even fourteen years later, the loss of him haunted her with a stabbing finality. Even here, wherever here was, he was gone. She had not awoken to find him lying next to her in the drafty corn exchange. She had not been startled awake at the climax of the nightmare to find him alive and worried for her safety. Fiyero was still gone, just a memory carried in the whisper of the wind.

_So it wasn't a dream then_, she concluded, _It was all real. It was my life, however putrid and painful it might have been. So what level of insanity has left me here?_

Elphaba was no stranger to waking up in unfamiliar surroundings. She had emerged from a deep chasm nearly two years after Fiyero's death, terrified and unsure of what had transpired. She had spent much of the following year trying to piece together a semblance of memory, trying to understand how she had come to serve as a maunt in the The Cloister of Saint Glinda. It was a puzzle she assumed she would never fully unravel, as present and past seemed to swirl together incomprehensibly. Her time in the City of Emeralds seemed more like a series of snapshots, pictures of beauty and horror without a coherent, linear flow to connect them. By the time she had been considered coherent in the mauntery she was already twelve miles from the great city. The maunts knew only fragments of her story. Yet they kept pushing the broom at her, and shaking their heads over her great tragedy.

And then there was the boy. He had been about two when she first noticed him, and the very notion that he could be a son of Fiyero pierced her heart so deeply she nearly couldn't breathe. So she shut him out, finding it was impossible to care for anyone else when one is so consumed with regret and guilt and grief.

Thus her life unfolded, with the years melding into one another as they became a dark cloud of sorrow, anger, and confusion. Even the thrill of flight, the confrontation of her enemies, and the power of sorcery could not fill her empty, aching soul. And now here she sat, strangely calm, with her world finally still and her senses sharper than they'd been in quite some time.

She finally tried to stand, feeling much like an awkward foal trying to balance on new, unsteady legs. When she got herself up, she leaned on the nearest tree to steady herself and took in deep breaths of sweet, rich air.

Elphaba knew, without a doubt, that Kiamo Ko was far from here. She couldn't say how she'd arrived or where this new place was, but she knew in her gut that she was someplace very far away and very foreign. As she made her way through the small grove of trees, she noted they were unlike any she'd seen. She soon found herself at the edge of a great expanse of flat land, flatter than anything in all of Oz. The ground undulated with the swaying of grains, their stalks refracting the golden light of the sun into a spectrum of rich amber. The air was too crisp, too dry and warm to be the thousand year grasslands, which lay at the base of The Great Kells. Yet it wasn't warm enough to be the edge of Quadling country.

Elphaba was altogether perplexed, yet she stood in awe at the vast landscape, taking in the richness of color and smell. In the distance, the clouds rolled over on each other, thick and black and expressive. She forgot her nakedness as the wind picked up and tossed the leaves about. Her hair whipped around her, seeming glad to be free after so many years of bondage. Then the rain began to fall.

Elphaba's heart leapt and pounded, fear coursing through her as she wrapped her arms around herself and darted for the shelter of the spindly trees. The rain fell in great, fat drops that splashed in the dark soil and quickly made puddles out of the ruts in the ground. She crouched under the largest tree, and trembled with fear and disbelief that life would continue to deal her such a cruel hand.

Yet she was not burning.

Elphaba could feel the rain soaking through her hair and running in streams down her back, but there was no pain. She dared to open her eyes and saw the droplets dripping from her fingers to the earth below. Slowly, she stood and watched as the water coursed over her body. Elphaba ran her fingers through her rain-soaked hair and then pushed it back away from her face. She stepped out beyond the trees to the expanse of the grassy plain, forgetting she was naked, or not caring. Something welled up inside of her. She tipped her face up toward the stormy sky to let the rain wash over her face.

"Sweet Oz…" she whispered to everyone and no one at once as nature bathed her in the warm, sweet, pouring rain.

Elphaba stretched out her arms in surrender as she imagined her sins pouring from her. Her soul ached with joy at the incredible release. Gone was the pain, the fear, the feeling of captivity storms had always brought her. She felt altogether at peace, and concluded that if this was heaven, she was content to have been wrong about the existence of her soul. As she blinked through the raindrops that had collected in her eyelashes, she felt embraced by the landscape itself. In this place, her verdigris seemed to meld with nature. She was accepted, no longer at odds with the basic elements of the world. She made sense here. She stood very still, afraid to break the spell.

Just then, the sun broke through a sliver in the clouds and bathed her bare, wet body in a golden, amber light. It warmed her sensitive skin, and she felt beautiful, she felt strong. She felt Fiyero.

Illogically, she looked around as though her lover had just called to her across the fields. The rain began to slacken and she searched the horizon for him, feeling his presence in a strong, palpable way.

The moment was shattered by a piercing shriek.

Elphaba turned, and at the edge of the horizon there stood a woman, weather-worn and carrying bundles of grain. Elphaba dropped her arms at the same moment the woman dropped her bundles.

The woman took in this other-worldly, green person, stark naked and soaking wet in her wild barley field. She pulled her cloak around herself in fear and presently began to scream for someone else in the distance.

Elphaba did the only thing she knew.

She ran.


	3. Chapter 3: A Time to Uproot

**Chapter 3: A Time to Uproot**

Elphaba's lungs burned from the effort of running. The long, stiff stalks of grain whipped her bare legs as she cut an uneven path across the fields toward the horizon. She couldn't say for sure what she was running toward, if anything. It looked as though the fields stretched out for miles around her, unbroken by any road or house or landmark. Her pulse thudded in her ears as terror spurred her to run faster. Elphaba hadn't stayed still long enough to hear the woman utter the words 'wicked witch', but she could only assume her reputation preceded her everywhere. She needed shelter, and clothing, and to spend some time sorting all this out. Then perhaps she could find her way back to Kiamo Ko to fetch at least the broom.

By the grace of the Unnamed God, the silhouette of a structure appeared on the horizon. Elphaba sprinted towards it, her vision swimming from what felt like miles of running. As she came closer, she could see that it was a barn, somewhat in need of repair. She tumbled through the door and collapsed onto her hands and knees, her chest heaving. It took her several moments to stem the nausea and to allow the world to stop spinning before her. At last she rose unsteadily to her feet and tried to pull the protesting door shut behind her. The hinges were rusted and slightly off, so that the hulking door would only come within about a foot of closing. Elphaba cursed at it and retreated into the shadows.

There were no animals, so she couldn't say that the place was in use. However, the structure was far from dilapidated. She could only hope it was an abandoned barn and would thus give her a few days shelter, at least until she could find some clothes. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she caught sight of an old horse blanket, draped over one of the stalls. It looked as though it might have been red at one point, but it was quite worn. It certainly didn't have the most pleasant smell, but Elphaba took a weary breath and wrapped it around her nakedness.

Then she sat, in utter stillness, as the sunlight coming through the cracks in the wooden beams faded to twilight. It was impossible to judge the time, except to say that darkness was soon coming. She reached up and ran a hand through her tangled hair, and realized it was nearly dry. It had a new texture, a sort of frizz around the temples and a stronger wave where it fell to her waist. Elphaba noted the difference, not having washed it in water in longer than she cared to remember.

With a surplus of time and a shortage of things to do, she let her mind wander. She felt thoroughly cleansed, new and refreshed in a way she had never before experienced. Like a virgin who had made love for the first time, she basked in the memory of the rain pouring over her. Water, when it was not to be feared, was beautifully sensual, with a cleansing power that washed her from the inside out. Underneath her utter confusion at the change of circumstances, she was a touch excited. For Elphaba it was a whole new world.

And yet that was also what troubled her. She'd seemed to have found herself in a whole new world. She feared her magick was far more powerful than what she'd imagined. She feared Kiamo Ko, the great mountains of the Vinkus, and even the City of Emeralds were much further away then any common means of transportation could take her. Not that it would be such a loss, with the whiny, naïve Dorothy whats-her-name and her odd menagerie of friends on a mission to kill the Wicked Witch of the West. It was the broom that troubled her, and the shoes, the Grimmerie, and all that she had left behind. She feared for the Animals and the innocents of Oz and what they would become without her. She was afraid for Glinda, despite the way she'd pushed her off. And even though she did not want to acknowledge it, she was afraid for Liir. Her stomach twisted every time he nearly escaped danger, or when she snapped at him and he looked wounded. At Kiamo Ko, she at least had him close at hand. Now, she struggled with anger and fear that his vapid nature would get him killed or corrupted.

_It must be some sort of punishment, that I would birth a child so completely unable to defend himself, so useless in matters of strength, the antithesis of all that I am, or was…_

And then, as always, she was angry at herself for thinking such a thing.

Slowly, Elphaba's eyes began to close. She realized she was incredibly tired, and allowed herself to fall into an uneasy sleep.

She was terrified into wakefulness the following morning.

At the sound of the door slamming open, Elphaba leapt from the soft straw on which she slept. Voices echoed in the cavernous space as she blinked her eyes, trying to focus on who was assaulting her.

"I told you she must've run here!"

"Sweet Lord, she really is green!"

"I told you! Green as a corn stalk."

"Well I'd've never believed…"

"Green as sin if you ask me! I says it's a witchy color!"

"Must be simple minded…runnin' around stark naked."

"Just get her outta my barn!"

At that, a hulking man who was mostly just shadows to Elphaba seized her by the hair and drug her from the barn. The morning sun was bright and blinding as she struggled to keep the blanket around her body. As her eyes adjusted, she could finally make out her assailants. The man who had her by her hair was tall, solidly built, and kept his face shielded from the sun in a wide-brimmed hat. The other two were women, dressed in shades of grey and beige, their skirts simply tailored and their hair tied back tightly. All three wore expressions somewhere between anger, disgust, and mild curiosity.

Elphaba tried to disengage herself, but the man gave her hair a yank and she cried out in pain. She grit her teeth and all but growled at him. She started to speak, but then thought better of it.

_Let them think I'm simple-minded. Maybe they'll simply turn me loose in the woods,_ she told herself. So, against her very nature, she bit her lip and stared at the ground.

"Ger her off my property, 'fore she robs me blind!" the older of the two women spat. Her faced seemed to fall naturally into a pinched, bitter expression.

"Whatcha want me to do with her?"

"Take her to the Sheriff! Maybe we'll be having a real, live witch burnin' right here!"

The other woman rolled her eyes, "Lord sakes, there ain't been witch burnins' for two hundred years!"

The women proceeded to bicker for the entire trip across the fields and into what turned out to be a bustling town. Elphaba turned heads, as usual, as she was drug by her long, thick hair into what appeared to be a courthouse. She stumbled several times, as she was lead down a narrow hallway and dumped, unceremoniously, into a jail cell. The heavy lock clanked shut behind her and she was left alone.

Elphaba curled herself up in the corner with the musty blanket around her. She shook her thoroughly matted hair behind her and considered her options. She could stay silent and hope they would simply run her out of town, or perhaps lose interest and allow her to slip away. Elphaba had never fared well in captivity, and she found herself itching for freedom within minutes. She shut her eyes and tried to conjure something, perhaps a cloak of invisibility that would allow her to escape. Yet she couldn't put together a coherent spell, and her mind felt murky and uncooperative.

Just about the time she gave up in frustration, the tall man returned with several members of what appeared to be law enforcement. Their uniforms were altogether foreign to Elphaba, but they were armed. One unlatched the door and pulled her up from the floor, once again by her hair. She winced, and realized they were afraid to touch her. The others looked on, wide-eyed in disbelief.

"Well I'll be…." One of them muttered.

Another crossed to her and pulled the blanket away, revealing her naked body.

"What are ya doin?" the tall man suddenly seemed uncomfortable.

"Makin' sure she's human," the other answered, with the blanket in his hand, "and that she's a she."

The others snickered and blushed a little, but did not look away.

Elphaba dug her fingernails into her palms and bit down hard on her lip. She was no longer a young woman, and life had stripped her of any vestiges of naiveté. Still, some wounds are so deep they are never completely erased. Her stomach twisted in fear, and she was suddenly very aware of the scars between her legs. She raised her head and made eye contact with the tall man. He held her gaze for a long moment, and registered something.

"That's enough boys," his voice was suddenly commanding, "I'll get Mae and Wilbur to come down with some clothes. No need assuming danger. She ain't hardly big enough to hurt a child."

The uniformed men released her and tossed the blanket back in her direction. Elphaba wrapped it around her shoulders as they clumped back out of the cell. As they disappeared, she overheard one say, "Certainly must be simple-minded. She hasn't said a word and don't respond to nothin'."

The others chuckled a little, and then they were out of earshot.

Elphaba let out a shaking breath, and curled up on the one rickety cot she found in the corner. It was a long night, with her sleeping fitfully and bolting awake at every sound. Many of her ancient fears were awakened in this place, and she trembled at the idea that one of the officers would return in the blackness of night. For one who'd been so sure of her own defenses for so long, she was terrified. She couldn't seem to get a grip on her magick, and she was without everything she knew.

The pale, morning light found Elphaba bleary-eyed, but relieved not to have been violated. She was huddled under the blanket, surrounded by cascading waves of ebony hair, when two figures appeared beyond the bars. One of the uniformed men soon followed, with the jangling ring of keys.

"Open the door," the tall, slender woman ordered, "Lord sakes Lenny, she's just a woman!"

The officer grumbled and wrestled the door open.

The woman entered, dressed in soft, rustling skirts and a crisp, white blouse. Her hair was a silver cloud, tucked into an unruly knot atop her head. The man behind her kept his hands tucked in the pockets of his well-worn trousers. He had a stubble of a beard and soft lines around his eyes that made his rough, workman's features gentle. He ran a hand through his thinning hair and took in the prisoner.

The woman stood in the door, looking Elphaba over. She looked a bit shocked, which was to be expected. There was something in her face that implied more than the usual concern over Elphaba's skin color. This woman looked as though she wanted to touch her, as though she were trying to convince herself that the person before her was real. She took a breath, and finally spoke.

"Do you speak?" she asked, and her voice was smooth.

Elphaba narrowed her eyes and searched the woman's face. She wanted to bolt for the door, but felt she had a better chance at freedom if she played to this woman's sympathy.

"Do you have a name, child?" the woman tried again.

"I am not a child," Elphaba answered, surprised at the strength of her own voice.

"So you are not," the woman replied, studying the green face before her as if trying to determine age, experience, intellect, or perhaps all of these.

"I am no one's prisoner," Elphaba threw out, drawing on all of her strength.

"But you run naked through barley fields?" there was a twinge of a smile at the corner of the woman's mouth.

Elphaba looked down at her hands, feeling off-balance and wishing desperately for some clothing so she could run fast and hard from this place.

"Just give me your name, and we'll see about some clothes and a hot meal," the woman's voice softened, and there was sincerity in her eyes.

Elphaba's stomach churned with the sudden realization of hunger. Feeling defeated, she mumbled, "Elphaba."

"Mae," the woman offered in return, and extended her hand.

Shocked, Elphaba stared at her for a moment before extending her hand from beneath the blanket. Mae clasped her pale fingers around Elphaba's without hesitation, before leading the way out of the cell.

Elphaba followed in a semi-state of shock.

_She touched me, without surprise or disgust, and without a mention of 'wicked witch', _Elphaba tried to make sense of it.

Still shocked, she followed Mae and the kind-looking man, feeling Oz retreating further and further away from her.

She was certainly very, very far from home.


	4. Chapter 4: A Time to Keep

**Chapter 4: A Time to Keep**

Elphaba fought the urge to throw her manners to the wind as Mae spooned vegetable stew from a large pot atop a brightly burning stove. She was finally dressed, having been given a well-loved dress, with delicate needlework on the bodice and a well-tailored skirt. It was a tad short, for someone so long-limbed, but the caramel color was surprisingly suiting, and she felt a little more human. Elphaba had also tucked her waves of black hair into a tight knot, because the wild, looseness of it gave her a sick feeling in her stomach. After the initial joy at the experience of rain, she remembered what a curse all that great hair had become. With every brush of a tendril, or the feeling of it being tossed in the wind, she felt Fiyero. For one fleeting moment, images of hair, matted with blood and splayed out on the floor flashed through her mind, and she had wanted rid of it again. If it was acceptable for a woman to do without hair, she would have sheared it off once more. Yet these people already thought she was strange enough, without shearing off her own hair. The knot would have to suffice.

"Do you have a given name, other than Elphaba?" she realized Mae was speaking to her.

Elphaba considered her answer. "Tigelaar," she finally responded, taking Fiyero's surname as her own.

_Have I lost my mind completely?_ She asked herself, shocked at her boldness. But then, she'd spent the past months in solitary insanity, behaving nonsensically and succeeding only in becoming more useless. She had isolated herself to the point of being feared or reviled, passively allowing herself to be labeled the Wicked Witch of the West. What was there to lose, in taking the Arjiki name?

"Tigelaar?" Mae questioned, struggling with the pronunciation, "I can only assume you're not from anywhere around here?"

"No," Elphaba whispered, "I don't think so…"

Wilbur joined them at the table then. He smiled a little, and took Mae's hands as they bowed their heads in prayer. Elphaba stiffened, entirely uncomfortable in the presence of such open religion, but she closed her eyes, out of respect. Then she ate hungrily, not remembering the last time she had been fed.

After a few quiet moments, Wilbur took a sip of cool water and addressed Elphaba, "Tell us something of yourself," he asked, not unkindly.

It was so open-ended, so honest and innocent that Elphaba was struck dumb. She tried to remember the last time she'd encountered someone who'd truly wanted to know her, with no preconceived ideas or underlying animosity. The last true compassion she'd received had come from a shaggy, white Cat who called himself Malky. Her emotions reeled at the memory, and she ached for him at that moment.

Pushing the memory aside, Elphaba finally asked, "You don't know who I am at all?"

Mae chuckled a little, "Should we?" she asked with a little smirk.

"I suppose not," Elphaba conceded.

"Why don't we start with, why were you running naked through Myra Spinnaker's barley fields?" Mae pried a little, but with kindness.

Elphaba blushed her unusual, purple color and looked at her food, "I don't know," she told the table. Then she rose and paced erratically, as had become her way when she was unsettled, "I really don't know," she reiterated, and wrung her hands in frustration.

Mae rose from the table and stopped her, looking her purposefully in the eyes. "It's all right…come sit," she led Elphaba back to her place and encouraged her to eat a little more.

Elphaba ate silently, confused and agitated by the directness of human contact she was receiving. Coming back from isolation, from the brink of crazy, was nearly as painful as the journey that led her there.

Mae and Wilbur exchanged concerned glances, and Mae tried again, "How old are you?" she asked softly.

Elphaba struggled to answer. She had stopped acknowledging the day of her birth years before. Time had blurred together so completely that she wasn't sure even of the year. There had been seven years in the mauntery, and then the journey into the Vinkus. Then some years with Sarima in the dark, stormy bitterness of Kiamo Ko. Her best estimate was that it had been fourteen. Fourteen years.

"About thirty-seven…I think…" she finally answered, knowing how ridiculous she must sound.

Mae simply nodded, her eyes widening a little. A strange expression flitted over her features, and for a moment Elphaba was curious.

Then Wilbur spoke up, "Where do you come from?"

"Oz," Elphaba answered, noting their completely bewildered faces.

"Never heard of it," Wilbur chuckled, "Must be farther than I've ever traveled."

Elphaba swallowed over a sudden lump of fear and dared to ask, "And what is this place?"

"This is Amber Plains. Ain't much, but the railroad brings good trade, and the river runs about two miles east. Got tracks all over the state now, haulin' grains so fast some folks is makin' themselves rich. Hardly believe it's the same country as 'twas when I was a boy…" Wilbur temporarily lost himself in memories, and Mae smiled and shook her head.

"I was born in Rush Margins, in Wend Hardings…in southeast Oz," Elphaba's words felt out of place, even as she spoke them. The places, the names, all sounded altogether foreign here.

"I am a descendent of the Eminent Thropp, originally of Colwen Grounds…" Elphaba decided not to explain the title that was her birthright, having given it over to Nessa before her death. She also couldn't make herself utter the word 'wicked witch'. If these people were truly ignorant of her, she saw no reason to perpetuate the title. There was less expectancy in just Elphaba, and less infamy. Perhaps just being Elphaba would give her a measure of simplicity and peace.

"It must be farther than I've traveled, 'cause I'm afraid I've never heard of any such towns…maybe further west, in unmapped territory…" Mae proposed, studying Elphaba's face.

There was silence as they finished their meal, with each of them considering the others. When Elphaba had thoroughly polished off the stew, Mae shooed her outside. The couple worked at scrubbing the dishes, leaving their guest to roam the grounds. She could see the couple inside through the murky glass windows, throwing glances in her direction and surely trying to sort out the oddity of their green houseguest. They had behaved kindly enough, though, and Elphaba was too weary tonight to try to explain things further. That is, if she could.

She stood outside the door for a few long moments and took in the scent of the earth around her. The previous day's rain had stirred up the soil and opened the wildflower blooms that speckled the fields around her. Wheat grew in abundance to her left, stretching out in golden fields as far as she could see. The stalks danced softly, following the rhythm of the northeast wind that blew warm and dry. To her right, there was a patch of corn and a large vegetable garden. Tomatoes were just budding, their skin taunt and green. The cucumbers, squash and gourds were budding flowers, still just promises of what was to come. A few chickens scratched around outside their ramshackle coop, keeping a safe distance from the lone rooster. A couple of high spirited hounds nipped at the chickens, barking and playing a game that the chickens seemed quite weary of. In the distance, a cow mooed contentedly. Elphaba walked amongst the animals, scattering the chickens as she made her way over to the graying, splintered fence that bordered the pasture.

She stood there for a long while, watching the sun sink towards the horizon. The whole world seemed gilded here, washed in an overlay of gold that shimmered in the sunlight. The oats and grains and wild barley, the dusty soil and scrubby grasses, even the bright maple wood, made it feel as though she was seeing the world through clear, amber glass. It was no wonder someone had stood in this blaze of warm colors and named the place Amber Plains.

A soft mewing found its way into Elphaba's reverie. She turned her head, searching for the source of the sound. She padded along the fence, following its uneven path as her bare toes dug into the soft earth.

At the base of one of the fence posts, Elphaba found the source of the pitiful sound. A tiny kitten was curled in the long grass, looking pitifully around and shaking terribly. She reached down and lifted it gently. She looked into its clear eyes and wondered if it was Animal of animal. It was calico, with big splotches of black and fiery orange across its back. Its eyes were masked in black and orange, and it studied her in return.

"Do you speak?" Elphaba asked, unsure if it was even old enough to respond.

The kitten stared at her, studying her face with its wide, glassy eyes. They stayed that way for a moment, with neither of them making a sound. Elphaba thought she saw a spark of intelligence, a glimmer of a soul, but the animal did not speak. However, it clung to her, digging its tiny, needle-like claws into her hand. It pawed its way up her arm and dropped into the cleft of her dress, in the space created because the bodice had been made for someone with fuller breasts than she. It nestled there and purred a little, with its tiny head peaking out over the edge of the dress. Elphaba sighed and let it stay, understanding how it felt to be alone and afraid.

_I suppose even here the animals find me a kindred spirit,_ she contemplated, not entirely upset at the idea.

When the sun began to slip behind the distant horizon, the sky suddenly became awash with a palette of colors brighter and bolder than Elphaba had seen since her childhood in Rush Margins. The thin air of the Vinkus didn't allow this refraction of light, this thick, painting of the sky that worked its way from clear blue into rose and cerulean, with the rims of the clouds aglow with crimson. The sun seemed larger, filling the sky in a blaze that appeared to set the grains afire. Elphaba was in awe as she watched nature outdo itself.

_We are so misguided, to think that we mortals can create beauty…_she marveled to herself, and felt unworthy to be part of this world.

Mae came out of the house just then, and Elphaba turned, startled out of her thoughts. The older woman crossed the yard, and then caught sight of the kitten tucked in her houseguest's dress. She smirked a little.

"Found a friend already?" Mae teased.

Elphaba tried to smile, in her awkward way, "It refused to be put down. And it was all alone, though it seems too young…" she made an effort to explain.

"Coyotes got to one of our litters of kittens before we could find where they were birthed. The mother died tryin' to fend it off. She came back nearly dead, and we knew something happened. Thought we'd lost all of them. I suppose this one made it," Mae explained, shaking her head at the loss of her animals. She reached out a long, weathered finger and stroked the tiny head at Elphaba's chest.

"Life is cruel," the words were out of her mouth before Elphaba realized what she was saying, before she could rearrange her features as not to give away her emotions.

Mae looked out in to the ruby-stained sky, "I suppose it can be," she answered slowly, "But we know in this world there's a time for everything …"

They stood that way for some time, each lost in thought, before Mae led Elphaba back inside to show her to her room. The kitten still purred, content against the green of Elphaba's skin.


	5. Chapter 5: A Time for Peace

**Chapter 5: A Time for Peace**

It was a beautiful farmhouse, Elphaba concluded as she was led up a twisting staircase to the third level. It wasn't a large house, but it was tall and decorated with detailed woodworking. The outside was appropriately weathered, having withstood the howling storms that often swept across the Great Plains. However, Mae kept the inside polished and impeccably neat. The rich maple wood shone, bringing out the intricate detail in the carved banister. It was a miniature castle, a gem in the vast, golden fields surrounding it. Elphaba was a bit proud that chance had landed her here.

She followed Mae down a short hallway to an oddly shaped room. The large, four-poster bed struggled to fit the space, as one wall was curved outward, accented by a bay of windows. A large dresser occupied one wall, with a polished mirror above it. Beneath the windows ran an upholstered seat, waiting for someone to curl up with a fresh book by the slanting light of the afternoon sun. The furniture was maple, gleaming gold and sweet-smelling. This light-colored, strange, new wood ran in stark contrast to the rich, dark Quoxwood that was so common in Oz. Elphaba continued to study the room, mesmerized by the feeling of being in her own, personal parapet. The height and the shape of the room were just reminiscent enough of the towers of Kiamo Ko to make her feel at home, if she could call the old castle a home.

Mae left her guest to reminisce in silence, pointing out that there were more clothes in the wardrobe on the nearest wall.

Elphaba carefully extracted the kitten from her bosom and placed it in the woven basket Mae had also left. The kitten mewed, and then curled up in the scraps of cloth and watched Elphaba curiously.

Elphaba awkwardly pulled a nightdress on and folded the dress she'd been given over a chair. She stopped in front of a tall, oval mirror and studied her reflection. She saw herself, or at least a version of herself: the emerald skin, the angular features sharpened by age and experience, the wide, deep-set eyes that glinted brown and green in the fading light. She raised one kohl-black, high-arched brow and recognized her usual expression, somewhere between a smirk and a smile. She raised her hands to her face, where she found her skin to be smooth and taunt, and still slightly tender. Elphaba suddenly flashed back to her days in the mauntery, caring for the dying. She remembered the patients that had been burned beyond repair, how the parts of them that managed to heal had been soft and tender and almost reborn. The superficial burns had left behind new, tender skin, as though the impurities had been burned away. It was only the deeper, blackened burns that killed them.

Elphaba couldn't help but wonder if something of that nature had happened to her. Perhaps she'd shed her old self, leaving it behind in a smoldering pile of ashes. Maybe something of who she was had been burned out, like chafe being separated from wheat. Like a mighty Pfoenix, maybe she had been reborn from fire. Yet none of that explained where she was, and what had become of Oz.

Elphaba sighed and wearily curled up under the quilts of the large bed. The complexity of the possibilities caused her head to throb. The wind howled as she lay there, bringing a thundering, lashing storm to the plains. She shuddered as the rain splashed against the windows and pelted the roof, finding her old fear was slow to die. The kitten clamored out of its basket and climbed the length of the bed linens to curl up at Elphaba's cheek. She stroked it softly, surprised at its determination, for that could not have been an easy climb, for one so small.

She looked into the kitten's golden-green eyes and asked, "What is your name, kitten?"

Somewhere in the fog of her mind, her question was answered. Not audibly, but clearly as she could hear herself speaking, she understood.

_Bala._

"A very suitable Animal name," Elphaba answered, "It means 'strength', does it not?"

The kitten simply studied her, perhaps too young to think in such complexities.

Elphaba stroked its patchwork fur and fell asleep to the lulling vibration of its tiny purr.

She awoke with a start the following morning, blinking and trying to remember where she was. Elphaba calmed herself as she remembered.

_Mae. The farmhouse. _

The kitten was asleep on her chest, and was quite upset at being disturbed.

_I was warm._

Again, the words were inaudible, but clear. The kitten blinked and curled itself into a tight ball on the quilt.

Elphaba smirked at the animal and dressed herself quickly. She made sure her hair was securely knotted and slipped her feet into soft, leather boots she found in the wardrobe. The room was certainly well-supplied, as though it had been waiting for just such a visitor.

As she padded down the hall and made her way down the angling staircase, Elphaba noticed the framed portraits than filled the walls. They ranged from traditional paintings, to modern photographs. She'd seen very few photographs in the Emerald City, as they were a luxury only the wealthy could afford. As she scanned the faces one by one, she stopped, suddenly transfixed. She studied the portrait of a particular woman. Her eyes followed the line of the jaw, the angle of the nose, the slight upward curve of her lips, and the upsweep of dark hair.

Elphaba reached out to touch the photograph, and nearly gasped.

_It's me…_

Her thoughts stopped there, unable to rationalize how there could possibly be a photograph of her here. The photo was black and white, so she couldn't make out the skin tone, yet the resemblance was unmistakable.

"It's uncanny, isn't it?" the voice startled her, and she jumped backward against the banister.

Mae was studying the same photograph, a slight smile tugging at her lips.

Elphaba nodded her agreement, unsure how to proceed.

"She's my daughter," Mae continued, making her way towards Elphaba.

"Does she live here?" Elphaba knew her question had come out sounding alarmed and afraid, but she was put off-balance by this strange coincidence.

Mae shook her head, and a veil of sadness darkened her features, "I'm afraid not, not any longer. She died, about three years ago…"

Elphaba pursed her lips into a thin line and studied her hands for a moment. She was thoroughly uncomfortable with grief and other displays of thick emotion. A twinge in her suggested she should say something comforting, but it was so completely beyond her nature that she simply turned and stared at the portrait of the young woman once more.

"I suppose she wasn't plagued by this wretched skin color, since she appears quite happy," Elphaba proposed.

Mae looked momentarily perplexed, and then her features softened into understanding, "Oh, your skin color. Wilbur and the others did tell me that you're absolutely grass green. It's all irrelevant to me, as far as color goes," Mae chuckled a little and fluttered her hand, as if the wave the matter away.

Elphaba stared at her, absolutely confused. After a moment of silence, she finally uttered, "What?"

Mae turned and saw Elphaba's puzzled expression. She laughed lightly and explained, "I supposed neither of us told you. I'm completely color blind. Ain't seen a lick of color since the day I was born. They tell me it's beautiful, but the good Lord didn't see fit for me to see it."

Elphaba was dumbstruck. This went beyond even Malky's acceptance of her, because he _chose_ not to see what others saw. However, to Mae, she truly didn't look any more unusual than anyone else. There was a refreshing feeling in the purity of the older woman's perception of her.

Mae turned and studied the photograph once more, and then turned to her guest. Impulsively, she reached out and tucked a loose strand of dark hair behind Elphaba's ear, and allowed her hand to linger tenderly on the strange, young woman's cheek.

Elphaba bristled at the unexpected affection and pulled backward. She turned and fled back up the stairs to retrieve the kitten from where it now mewed at the top of the stairway.

Later, they ate their breakfast in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Bala happily lapped fresh milk from a saucer, looking immeasurably tiny against the expanse of polished, wooden floor. When the dishes were cleaned, Wilbur cleared his throat and offered, "I can take you for a ride in the cart, if you like, if you want to see something of where we live."

Elphaba considered the request from her perch on the edge of a hand-made rocking chair. What had she to lose, in exploring this vast, flat place that seemed so foreign? She nodded her agreement and rose, depositing Bala in a pile of soft linens near the stove. The kitten looked up at her with fearful eyes.

_You're leaving me?_ The question rang clear in Elphaba's mind.

"I'll return soon," she told the tiny creature, and then breezed from the house behind Wilbur.

The older man took his time carefully hitching the horses to the unadorned cart. Bales of hay were scattered around for seating, and Elphaba picked her way through them and settled herself in. Wilbur finally clamored into the rickety driver's seat and spurred the horses into motion. He leaned back and asked, "Any requests for what we see first?"

Elphaba considered for a moment, and then blurted out, "The river."

She wasn't sure what made her say it, but some raw instinct within, some gnawing curiosity, wanted to look over the rolling waters without fear.

They rode in silence, bumping over the heavily rutted roads with Elphaba clinging to the wagon's wooden rails. She was no stranger to rough travel. In fact, with the exception of the blazing sun, this was quite reminiscent of her journey into the Vinkus. She smiled a little at Wilbur, to show she was not a dainty thing who was unsettled by rough roads.

Their route took them through wide, open farmland, dotted occasionally by sprawling farmhouses and their adjacent barns. The only passerbies were spotted cows and pawing horses, who watched the cart with mild curiosity. After some time, the river suddenly loomed before them, sparkling green and gold in the bright morning sun. Elphaba's breath caught at the beauty and sheer expanse of it.

Wilbur brought the cart to a halt and slid from his seat. He unhitched the horses to let them drink from the shallow, lapping water.

Elphaba hopped from her perch and stood, mesmerized. The shoreline was flat here, and the water lapped at the sandy soil like an exotic sea. The river was vast, perhaps a half a mile across and smooth as glass this morning.

"Beautiful, ain't it?" Wilbur commented.

Elphaba could only nod.

"They call it the Verdigris, since it looks so green in the sun. Sort of a fancy title, if you ask me, but I suppose it's fitting," Wilbur explained.

Elphaba froze. The irony was palpable.

What she did then was purely impulse, perhaps born of some need to fill a void or find vindication from nature for a lifetime of torture. She shed her shoes and stumbled over herself as ran. She plunged, fully clothed, into the warm, green waters of the Verdigris. Elphaba allowed the water to envelope her, to coat her and soak her. She sank into it and then rose gasping, as the wetness ran in rivulets over her hair and through her fingers. She stood there, soaked to her bones and warmed by the steadily rising sun.

Wilbur stood on the shore, shocked yet unmoving. He stroked one of the horses fondly and watched his houseguest storm the river like an enemy that had to be conquered.

Elphaba tipped her face toward the sky and let the water drip from her face. She was surrounded by water, reflecting and refracting the sunlight in a glorious spectacle. She was a mere speck, another emerald drop in the mighty, powerful, green waters of this great river. And suddenly, she felt it again.

_Fiyero._

His presence was strong, as though he had walked this place and touched these waters. She was filled with aching for him. She was lost, confused and very broken. She was forever stained with the blood of innocents, and the blood of those she loved most. She was the simultaneous embodiment of wickedness and purity of heart.

Elphaba stood in the midst of her raging emotions, immersed in water and changes that made no sense, and she suddenly needed to know. She needed to know where she was and why. She needed to understand her fate, if only to know who she was now to become. She needed answers.

Elphaba thrashed from the river, stopping only to retrieve her shoes from where she had shed them. She climbed aboard the cart, water still dripping from her clothes and hair.

"Books," she threw out more curtly than she intended, "Take me to wherever there are many, many books. Now."

Wilbur's eyes widened in shock, but he wordlessly hitched up the horses and steered the cart away from the river.

Elphaba nearly itched in anticipation.


	6. Chapter 6: A Time to Weep

**Chapter 6: A Time to Weep**

Elphaba turned her face toward the sun as the wagon bumped along in the endless ruts of the poorly maintained roads. The was sun climbing quickly into the sky, and its brilliant warmth made quick work out of drying Elphaba's clothes and hair. She silently thanked nature for that, as she could only imagine the spectacle she would have made arriving in town not only green, but soaking wet.

Slowly, the endless waves of grains gave way to a better road. It was still just dirt, but it was flat and packed smooth by more frequent traffic. A few buildings came into view, mostly two or three-story, wooden structures that fronted the road. They became more frequent as the wagon rattled along into the heart of Amber Plains. Elphaba studied the faded, painted signs over the various shops and storefronts.

_Joseph's Tailoring_

_Maddie's Alterations_

_The Tick Tock Tavern_

_Bakery_

_Barber Shoppe_

_Thomas' General Store_

_The Hat and Buckle_

_Feed and Supply Store_

She silently read them off, one by one. At the intersection of four wide, dusty streets stood an austere, wooden structure that proudly announced 'Town Hall' on the freshly painted sign above its doors. Just beyond it stood the only stone building, rising dominantly above the quaint buildings around it. 'Library' was carved proudly into its façade. Elphaba's hands tingled as she imagined the books it could hold.

"Mayor takes learnin' pretty seriously here," Wilbur broke the long silence, "Financed nearly the whole library by himself. Said we needed good books to better ourselves."

Elphaba nodded her agreement as Wilbur pulled the wagon to a stop in front of the brick steps leading into the library. She hopped down from the dusty cart and stretched her limbs. She was thoroughly dry now, and perhaps a little sun-baked.

She half expected Wilbur to follow her, but instead he threw out, "Ain't never learned to read myself. S'pose it's a little late now…"

Elphaba didn't respond, dumbfounded at the idea of being unable to read a book.

"I've got some errands to run. I'll be back before sunset for you," Wilbur tossed out as he pulled the wagon away from where Elphaba stood.

She watched him canter off, and then turned to climb the stairs. Behind her, several women stood outside the hair salon, gawking openly at Elphaba's retreating back.

Once inside, she let her eyes adjust to the dim lighting as the door thumped shut behind her. Elphaba took in the slightly musty scent of books, both new and old. She made her way to the small, weather beaten desk near the door and questioned the young woman sitting there.

"Excuse me?" Elphaba asked quietly.

The young woman looked up, sucked in a deep breath, and screamed.

Elphaba just stared at her, waiting for her to stop shrieking. When the woman finally quieted, Elphaba tried again.

"Could you please tell me where—" the woman cut her off.

"What's wrong with you? What are you? Why are you in our library?" the woman stood and rambled illogically, "Just stay right there! I'm gonna get someone, so you just stay right there!"

Suddenly, a stroke of genius struck Elphaba, "I'm sorry," she asked calmly, "Is there something wrong?"

The woman hesitated in the midst of her mad frenzy, "Look at yourself! You're green as sin!"

"What?" Elphaba feigned utter confusion.

"Just look at yourself!"

Elphaba examined her own hand, "I'm sorry, but you must be confused, or perhaps not feeling well. I mean, really, a _green person_?"

The woman hesitated, blinked her eyes a few times, and then reached up to feel her forehead. She stumbled away, muttering to herself and looking back at the strange visitor to her library. Elphaba decided she had to move quickly, before the woman came back with someone else who could verify she was, in fact, very green.

She made her way into the stacks, finding a card catalog and riffling through its drawers. After several moments, she began to be frustrated, finding nothing of use under Magick, or Magic for that matter, or Sorcery, Wizardry, or even Lurelinism, which had roots in magick. Losing patience, she tried Life Sciences, and then Science, and then something caught her eye.

_Time Travel?_ She read to herself. It seemed far-fetched, and all together implausible, yet lacking any other starting point, Elphaba made her way towards the fourth floor, to a far corner of the shelves of books. She found herself amidst stacks of dusty volumes that looked as though they had been long forgotten. The books seemed especially old in this corner, and the silence was deafening.

Elphaba took a deep breath and pulled a few books from the shelf. She settled herself at a creaking table and methodically began to poor over page after page of information. She was quickly exasperated, as most of what she read was the stuff of fiction. Crackpot theorists proposed every preposterous idea that could be imagined, and then were quickly debunked by the great thinkers of the day. The first thing that troubled her greatly, though, was their dismissal of magic. She had, after all, come from a world where magic was a common occurrence. It operated not in violation of the laws of nature, but as a slight bending of the rules by someone skilled enough to know how to manipulate them. This dismissal of magic troubled Elphaba greatly, because it implied she was now utterly powerless, and also gave credence to the idea that she was not just removed from Oz by space, but perhaps time as well. Or perhaps something even more complex than that.

An indeterminate amount of time slipped through her fingers, and Elphaba's head began to pound, yet she pressed on. She finally emerged from the shelves for a moment, hoping to sit down with her latest book and perhaps rest her eyes for a moment. Although they had become less frequent with age, there was always the danger of working herself into a paroxysm right here, on the library floor.

She very nearly plowed over the young man making his way toward the same table. They collided and landed on the floor in a pile of books.

"I'm so sorry, I…" the young man trailed off as he took in the woman he had collided with.

"Go ahead, scream," Elphaba sighed, "I suppose it was coming anyway."

The young man was quiet for a moment, and then offered, "I suppose most everyone screams when they meet you?"

"A great majority, especially here…" she trailed off.

"I take it you're not from Amber Plains either?" he stood up and offered a hand to Elphaba to help her off the floor.

It was only then that she noticed his accent, which was soft and exotic when compared with the drawling speech of those she'd met thus far. She shook her head, confirming she was also foreign, and accepted his help standing up.

"I'm Adrian," the young man extended his hand, and Elphaba shook it, warily. He seemed harmless enough, with a shock of unruly, longish dark hair and strong, angled features. His eyes were very blue, almost purple, and they captivated Elphaba the way she imagined her skin dumbfounded strangers.

"I am Elphaba," she finally offered in return, cautiously.

"So, what brings you to this dark and musty corner of the library?" Adrian asked as he picked up the books that had tumbled to the floor.

"I don't suppose you'd be interested, or you'd think I was altogether insane," Elphaba tossed out, with a bite of sarcasm that came so naturally to her.

"Is it possible that you could both green, and insane?"

Elphaba's temper flared, but when she turned to retrieve her books from Adrian, his mouth was turned up in a half-smile.

Elphaba considered him for a moment, and then asked, "And what makes you so different, Adrian, that you're not screaming and running from me?"

"I deal with the unusual every day. In my line of work, we dabble in the impossible, or at least improbable, so often that, eventually, I was bound to meet a green person," Adrian's wit was irresistibly charming, and Elphaba cracked a tiny smile.

"What do you dabble in?" Elphaba questioned, finding her curiosity peaked.

Adrian set the heavy stack of books on the dusty table and pushed a lock of dark hair back from his forehead, "Physics," he answered, "Theoretical physics, to be exact. We try to understand the universe, why we exist, how we exist, things like that."

Elphaba was dumbfounded for a moment, wondering how it might be possible that fate would have them both wander into this dusty place on the same day. Finally, she answered, "Perhaps we could be of assistance to one another…"

Adrian raised an eyebrow, "You have an interest in theoretical physics?" his tone was disbelieving.

"As encouraging as your tone is," Elphaba threw back sarcastically, "I think what I have to say might be of interest to you." She plopped down in the nearest chair defiantly.

Adrian sat down across from her, his curiosity piqued, "You have my attention," he conceded.

Elphaba took a deep breath, knowing she was taking a chance. Still, she had very few other options, "Have you ever heard of a place called Oz?" she asked carefully.

Adrian shook his head in ignorance.

"That's where I come from," Elphaba continued, "But I fear that I have landed myself very far from home. And the manner in which I arrived here was, to say the least, unusual…" she added.

"How did you arrive here?" Adrian asked.

Elphaba swallowed over her pride, knowing how ridiculous she must sound, "I…I woke up here. One minute, I was being…assaulted, in my home, and the next memory I have is waking up here, in the woods…" she left out the part about arriving naked, finding it too embarrassing. She waited for him to laugh.

Adrian considered for a moment, "Could you have been left there? Perhaps kidnapped and then abandoned?"

Elphaba shook her head emphatically, "No…it's just not possible. No one there could have possible carried me this far, and this place is just too….different."

"Different? How so?" Adrian leaned in, transfixed.

"To begin, I'm a—" she stopped short of the word 'witch', "I was born gifted in magick. It's always been a part of me. Yet here, the spells make no sense, they have no effect. And the animals, or Animals, they don't speak. Even the idea of it seems preposterous to these people…" she trailed off in frustration.

Adrian's eyes widened, and for a full minute he did not blink. Elphaba snapped her fingers, and he shook himself back into the moment.

"I'm sorry," he offered, "I just can't believe…I suppose I should question your sanity now, but I want so much to believe you…"

Elphaba let out a heavy sigh and sat back, "I didn't expect you would. Perhaps I have gone crazy. Perhaps my whole life has been a deluded, crazy dream resulting from my ridiculous birth. Maybe I don't belong here either, but I swear to the Unnamed God, this is an entirely different world from Oz!"

"I wouldn't go so far as to question the implications of where you belong, but I agree you don't seem to be from this world," Adrian offered, studying her eyes with a frightening intensity.

They both sat for a moment in silence, pondering their next move.

"Elphaba? Is that how you say it?"

She nodded.

"In your lifetime, in Oz, did you ever consider there might be a world beyond yours? That perhaps beyond this universe, there is another, and another, and another?"

Elphaba shook her head, wary, yet incredibly curious.

"I've been studying with a great student of physics, one of the greatest minds of our generation, and his ideas, his theories, postulate things beyond my wildest imagination. Yet they're all based in science. One of his ideas, which was immediately thrown out by his contemporaries, is that there exists, just beyond our grasp, other worlds. Whole other places existing in dimensions we cannot sense in our limited human experience. The picture he paints is of dimensions beyond the three of four we can experience here on earth, and within them the possibilities are endless. Even the idea of…." He trailed off, his eyes widening further.

There was a long, pregnant pause before Adrian continued, "Tell me, in your lifetime, was there ever a visitor to your world? Anyone else who did not belong? Who, like yourself now, could not entirely account for where they came from?"

Elphaba froze. There had only ever been one person in Oz who was that strange, that out of place. He was the one person she had spent a lifetime fighting, opposing, and even hating. He was the man she'd only known as The Wizard.

"There was one," Elphaba barely whispered, "The self-appointed leader of Oz. His arrival was always shrouded in mystery, and he admitted freely to coming from somewhere altogether removed from Oz," she paused to think, "Once, someone dared to propose that he might be…that he and I could somehow be…related," the admission made her nauseous, and sounded preposterous coming from her lips.

Adrian's eyes lit up in a revelation all his own. He stood up suddenly and paced, deep in thought.

"You have to come with me," he threw out suddenly.

"What?" Elphaba looked at him is disbelief.

"Come with me to Boston, to meet with my professor! He's arriving in two months time, and will be staying for a short visit. There's so much he could learn from you, I mean the possibilities are…unlimited…" Adrian trailed off.

Elphaba was quiet for a moment. Finally, she ventured, "Are you implying that beyond this world, separated by more than space or time, but some quantum dimensional leap, is Oz?"

"Perhaps," Adrian answered.

"Then how would you propose I ended up here?" Elphaba countered.

"That's exactly why you need to meet my professor!" Adrian could no longer contain his excitement.

Elphaba turned the idea over in her head. Could she really have leapt some cosmic plain and landed in a different world? Could such a thing really exist? Was it possible she was that powerful? For a moment, she wanted to think that she was. She wanted to believe she'd discovered a reason why she'd always felt so unusual, so out of place and in contrast to the world around her. Perhaps it could even explain her illogical allergy to what was the source of life, water.

Adrian was looking at her expectantly, and Elphaba took a deep breath.

"I'll go," she agreed, "And where is Boston?"

Adrian's smiled overwhelmed his face, "Several days by train…but we can discuss that later. I'm going to write my professor. Where can I find you when I hear from him?"

For a moment, Elphaba was perplexed, having no sense of direction in this strange place. She also hadn't bothered to ask how to locate the farm where she was staying.

"Do you know Mae, and Wilbur?" she asked, also having not asked their last name.

Adrian shook his head, too new to the town to know many of its residents.

"I can meet you here each week, on this same day, until your have word from your professor," Elphaba suggested.

Adrian nodded emphatically, "Yes," he agreed.

"Wait…what is the day, today?" Elphaba thought to ask, having not questioned the day or month since she'd arrived.

"Thursday," Adrian offered.

"Thursday, then," Elphaba agreed. She was searching for her next words, when a commotion behind her caught her attention.

"There she is!" someone screamed, "I told you, green as sin!"

Elphaba's eyes widened like a trapped animal as a mob of women surged forward and seized her, ignoring Adrian in their mad confusion. She tried to pull herself free, but hands seized her and bodies pressed her forward and down the stairs. When they all tumbled out onto the street, she finally had enough leverage to wrench an arm free.

"I have a right to be here!" she growled, "It's a library, for Oz sakes!"

"Who's Oz?" someone threw out.

"Is that another witch?" another voice threatened.

"I say we burn her!" a menacing voice rang out.

"Ain't no need to burn nobody! Just run her out of town!" someone defended.

The group threw her to the ground, and her knees and palms struck the rocks and dirt. She turned one hand over and saw the blood beginning to surface in the superficial scrapes. Yet she clenched her fingers together, anger bubbling to the surface. She had been on the verge of discovering something about herself, of unlocking a mystery that might, for once, make her truly belong. For a few fleeting moments, she had been accepted, even admired, and perhaps her life had even made sense. It was the way she'd felt when she had been alone with Malky, when he would lift her spirits in his poetic way. It was the way she'd felt with Fiyero.

With a sudden burst of strength, Elphaba threw the well-dressed ladies off of her and stared each one in the eye for a moment. She was met with animosity, fear, and a little curiosity. And then she ran.

As she bolted from the group, she caught one last snatch of conversation, "She's a spittin' image of Anna Margaret…"

Elphaba didn't stop for an explanation. She ran with the strength and speed of someone who'd spent a lifetime running. She put the bustling streets behind her and pounded down the dusty roads until the river came into view. She finally collapsed near the sloping bank, with lungs and limbs burning. She realized she must've come at least two miles. Her hands and knees began to burn, as the dust mixed with the new scrapes she'd suffered. The words of the strange women echoed in her ears, and suddenly tears overcame her.

It had been a long time, years in fact, since she'd been able to cry. It came naturally here, almost beyond her control, without the allergy to harm her. Elphaba sat back on her knees and let the tears fall, running in fat droplets over her face as she looked out over the shimmering, golden-green waters of the Verdigris River. She felt utterly weak and powerless, and ashamed at the sudden, ridiculous display of emotion. She hated weakness, and yet sometimes she felt she was the embodiment of it.

_Fiyero._

His memory overwhelmed her as the rivulets of tears ran over her lips and chin. Yet he was not here to wipe them away, to hold her close, or pull her against his strong body as she let loose her torrents of emotion.

Wilbur found her there some time later, just as the last of the twilight faded into starry night. His eyes were deeply concerned, yet he said nothing. He nearly carried her back to the wagon and, like his own, beloved daughter, drove her home.


	7. Chapter 7: A Time to Tear

**Chapter 7: A Time to Tear**

When they arrived back at the farmhouse, the sky was black and speckled with stars. Elphaba had leaned back in the cart and was studying the way they grouped themselves into constellations. Adrian's words echoed in her ears as she searched for the familiar patterns she'd seen move across the sky as a child growing up in Rush Margins. Not one of the constellations she expected to find was visible. She continued to lie there as Wilbur began to unhitch the horses. He stopped for a moment and approached her.

"That's the Big Dipper right there," Wilbur pointed out, "and if you follow the tip of the dipper, just below it is the North Star."

Elphaba was silent for a moment.

"I've never seen them before," she said softly, hoisting herself down from the cart, "They are beautiful, but I've never seen them before," she said the last part more to herself, as she wandered into the house.

Wilbur furrowed his brow and shook his head as she disappeared inside.

Bala was waiting for her when she entered the house, which was warmly lit by bright, flickering lamps.

_I was alone and afraid,_ the words formed in Elphaba's mind as she picked up the tiny kitten and looked into her wide, shimmering eyes.

"I wouldn't leave you," Elphaba's voice was soft, soothing even, "I'm your…" she stopped short of the word 'mother'. Just thinking the word wrenched her stomach into a knot, as she was forced to remember how incapable she been as a parent.

"I'll take care of you," she finished instead.

Bala looked contented, and purred a little as Elphaba stroked her tiny head.

Mae smiled, shaking her head as Elphaba talked to the kitten. She didn't understand it, but it seemed to make her houseguest happy. She finished setting the table and set out the food she had prepared.

"I hope you like roast chicken," Mae offered with a soft smile.

Elphaba hesitated for a moment, torn, "I don't eat meat," she finally answered tightly.

"Truly?" Mae looked bewildered, "Why ever not?"

"There is no way of knowing if meat comes from an animal, or an Animal. And I cannot take that chance," Elphaba answered, more harshly than she intended.

"Is there a difference?" Mae looked confused.

Elphaba sighed, suddenly feeling very weary. She knew there were not enough words in this world to explain the difference. She rubbed her temples, feeling the strain of the day.

Mae smiled, coming over and steering Elphaba toward the table gently, "I suppose it doesn't matter. It's late and you need some food. There are plenty of vegetables and other things as well."

Wilbur entered then, and they sat down together. Elphaba sat quietly, respectfully, as they said their prayers, and then realized how hungry she was as the scent of good food surrounded her. She helped herself to potatoes, fresh greens, soft, freshly-baked bread, and carrots Mae had cooked with sugar. They were sweet, sticky, and altogether wonderful. After several moments of silence, Mae's soft voice broke the tension.

"Did you find what you were looking for today?" she tried to look into Elphaba's eyes.

Elphaba considered for a moment, "Perhaps. But I fear I may have simply uncovered more questions as well."

"Well," Mae reached forward and placed her hand over Elphaba's, "you're more than welcome to make this your home, at least for now," she paused, studying the face before her, "It's nice, to have someone else around the house…"

Mae's expression was kind, loving, and a little sad. Elphaba swallowed, grateful, yet terminally awkward when it came to responding to such open affection. She smiled a little, and allowed Mae to hold onto her hand for a moment longer.

"Thank you," she finally whispered.

When they had resumed eating, Elphaba suddenly asked, "What is your last name? Your family name?"

The couple looked surprised, but not offended.

"Proctor," Wilbur answered.

"I was simply curious…" Elphaba tried to explain.

"There's no need to explain," Mae encouraged, "You can ask anything you wish. We live a solitary life, but we're fairly friendly," she chuckled a little.

Elphaba felt slightly disarmed, allowing this normal meal in such a normal place to comfort her. After a moment, she took a deep breath and asked a question that had been nagging at her.

"Who is Anna Margaret?"

There was a moment of silence, as Mae slowly chewed her food and considered the question. Wilbur studied his plate.

Finally, Mae answered, "Anna Margaret was our daughter. The one I told you about."

Elphaba flashed back to the photo in the stairwell.

"She died about three years ago," Mae continued, looking past Elphaba with cloudy eyes, "Her horse reared and threw her into the river. She could have easily swam, even walked out, but she hit her head on a stone and…" she swallowed hard.

"I understand," Elphaba cut her off, not wanting to be the reason for Mae's recounting such a loss. She knew what it meant to be haunted by loss and regret.

"She's in the Lord's hands now," Mae spoke softly, "and what's been done cannot be undone. Right now, we have you to tend to."

Elphaba was slightly dumbfounded at the unusual faith and unquestioning acceptance in Mae's words. She returned to her food, lost in thought as they finished dinner.

She helped Mae clear the table this time, feeling compelled to be a contributing member of the household. She had never been particularly domestic, but her time in the city with Fiyero had honed her skills in the kitchen. When the dishes were clean and the scraps discarded, Elphaba headed up the stairs, with Bala tucked in her arm.

She turned suddenly, stopping to address the older couple.

"I do appreciate the hospitality, truly," it was the best Elphaba could offer, yet she meant it. Then she clambered up to her room.

Later, when she shuffled down the hall to search for a blanket, she caught snatches of the conversation below.

"They were awful, Mae, truly awful. One of 'em even suggested they burn her."

"Had to have been old Myra. Only she would suggest something that was outlawed three hundred years ago."

"I agree, Myra's slap crazy. But they tried to attack her, and then…they recognized her."

"As Anna Margaret?"

"Yes."

There was a silence.

"It's uncanny…"

"I know, Mae, but she's not her. That's just not possible. And you can't see it, but she's truly green."

There was a silence, where Mae must have nodded.

"She was crying when I found her, really sobbing."

"She seems to be such a sad soul. Those eyes just break your heart."

"She's not ours Mae. She's not even a child, not hardly."

"I know, I know. But it doesn't matter, because she's a person, and she has no one else."

"I only want you to remember who she really is…and isn't. I never said you couldn't love her."

Elphaba sucked in a sharp breath at the word 'love'. She fled back down the hallway to her room and crawled under the quilts, where Bala joined her. She didn't want to be loved, or clung to, or held in any sort of esteem.

Or did she?

For all her passion and her attempts to right her wrongs, had she succeeded in anything truly good? For all of her useless activity, her constant spinning her heels in the miry refuse of politics and family grudges, had she truly changed anyone or anything? The only thing that stood out in her life as having been for good was Fiyero, and Malky and her comrades in the cell so many years before. It was not their work that had made a difference. It was who they were, how they changed each other. Their work as revolutionaries had accomplished little, yet Elphaba knew she would never forget the way Nyalana had changed her heart. She would never forget how Malky made her almost believe in her soul. She would never forget Fiyero.

"Perhaps, all my life, I have been striving for the wrong things," Elphaba mused, directing her words toward the sleeping kitten.

Bala slept on, and Elphaba drifted into slumber, deep thoughts swirling through her head.

The following morning, as Mae was introducing Elphaba to the wonder of homemade biscuits and jam, a loud ruckus and a pounding on the door startled them.

Wilbur opened the door, and Mae quickly joined him when she saw the number of people outside.

"What is the meaning of this?" Wilbur's voice was suddenly gruff and commanding.

"We know she's in there! We know you's harborin' a witch in your house!" a shrill voice rang out, followed by grumblings of agreement or disagreement.

"Now that's enough, Myra," a new voice broke in, "No need callin' anyone a witch before we have a chance to talk."

"Lenny," Wilbur began, "I know you're the sheriff around here, and you and your law have to keep up with what's goin' on, but was it really necessary to bring the whole town into my front yard over a houseguest?"

The other voice, which must have been the sheriff, spoke up, "Wilbur, the townspeople just want to know what sort of person you're lettin' into your house, and what her intentions are."

Elphaba sat, riveted to her chair, anger seething through her gritted teeth.

"She's a woman, _Sheriff_," Mae's words were laced with anger, "not an outlaw or a monster!"

"Well perhaps she should come out here herself and make her intentions clear, so we can all rest a little easier," Lenny's voice had a cautious edge to it.

At that, Elphaba stood up and strode out the door, to where Mae and Wilbur stood on the stoop. In front of her stood a motley collection of people, dressed in simple frocks and trousers, and the occasional wide-brimmed hat. She scanned the crowd, noting that amongst them were several dark-skinned faces, eerily reminiscent of the Vinkun tribes. They carried baskets and bundles, and none of them spoke.

Elphaba brushed past Mae and Wilbur and moved into the crowd, noticing how they backed away from her, gasping a little as she cleared a path to the center of the crowd. She stopped and looked around before speaking.

"I am Elphaba, and I am not a witch," her voice was strong, and she realized that in this place, what she'd said was not a lie.

"What's wrong with your skin?" a scruffy man barked, spitting in the dirt as he spoke.

"I was born this way, the same as you," Elphaba spat back.

"If you ain't no witch, then what's your business here?" the woman she'd begun to recognize as Myra Spinnaker shrieked.

Elphaba's eyes dropped and her tone softened, "I don't know…I found myself here quite by…accident."

Myra snorted her disapproval, and someone else called out, "Aw, come on Myra, she was probably abandoned by a circus or somethin'. She don't look dangerous!"

Elphaba cringed at the word 'circus', but she kept silent. As people grumbled, a small boy made his way through the crowd. He was at Elphaba's feet before she realized he was approaching her. He set down his bundles and tugged at her dress. She turned and looked down into his wide, dark eyes. He motioned for her to kneel, and she cautiously obeyed.

Face to face, she studied his deep, ochre skin, his short, coarse hair, and his dark eyes that looked almost black. His clothes were dirty, and in need of repair, and he was barefoot. Still, a smile spread over his face, and reached up and placed his tiny hands on Elphaba's cheeks. She twitched a little, at his touch. The boy touched her nose, her hair, her forehead, and then her cheeks again.

He let out a little chuckle and exclaimed, "Green!" he reached down and took one of her hands. He wrapped his dark fingers around one of hers and pronounced again, "Green."

A tiny ripple of laughter fluttered through the crowd, and another man made his way over. Elphaba looked up, and recognized him as the same man who'd found her in the barn two days prior. She stood up abruptly, with a twinge of fear, but he offered his hand.

"Name's Luke, and these are my house servants," he gestured toward the little boy and the dark-skinned woman following him, "That's Letty, and her son Josiah."

Elphaba hesitantly shook his hand, and then Luke called towards Mae and Wilbur, "I suppose if you're wantin' to keep a colored woman in your house, it ain't botherin' me none. As long as she follows the rules, I don't s'pose it matters exactly which color she is."

With that, he turned to leave, with the little boy and his mother following behind. The others in the crowd took his gesture as a means of acceptance, if tentative, and slowly began to file away.

"I suppose we're done here," the sheriff addressed Wilbur again, with a tip of his hat. He leaned in before walking away and added, "I'm sure you've noticed, but she's a spittin' image of—"

"I know," Wilbur cut him off, ending the discussion.

Lenny tipped his hat once again, and sauntered toward the road. When all the others had mounted horses, or wagons, or trudged away on foot, one figure remained. Myra Spinnaker stood with her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes locked on Elphaba. She was an older woman, that much Elphaba could tell, but perhaps not as old as her scowl implied. Her hair tended to pull itself loose from her tight bun and flew in a gray and brown cloud around her pinched face. Her dress was bland and well-worn, and whipped around strong legs that looked as though she had endured a life of hard work. She approached Elphaba, and easily matched her in height.

"You listen here," Myra hissed, "those others might be too cowardly to have a witch-burnin', but I ain't no fool. There's something wrong about you, something wicked! So you stay away from me! Or I'll see that you disappear, ya hear me?"

Elphaba's body tensed, anger rushing through her as she clenched her hands into fists. She tried to bite her lip, truly not wanting to risk having a place to live. However, before she could stop herself, she pulled her hand back and slapped Myra Spinnaker square across the face.

The older woman looked shocked, and then enraged. She shoved Elphaba to the ground with surprising strength and then stomped over to the door stoop where Mae and Wilbur still stood.

"You better control her!" she shrieked, "Or I'll see that she hangs like any disobedient, colored woman should!" with that, Myra stormed off, mounting a cinnamon-colored horse and galloping away with surprising skill.

Elphaba sat there for a moment, fuming and fighting back tears of anger and frustration. It was amazing, how easily tears came in this new place.

Mae scurried over and helped her up, dusting off her dress and arms. Elphaba turned and fled into the house, feeling ashamed and incredibly angry that both Mae and Wilbur had seen her interaction with Myra. Mae followed, and caught Elphaba before she could flee up the stairs. She seized Elphaba by the hand and pulled her into a sudden embrace.

Elphaba stiffened, yet Myra held tightly to her and said, "You don't deserve that. No one deserves that. She's just a crazy, bitter old woman."

Elphaba started to pull away, but Mae's arms were strong and comforting. For a moment, she wondered if this is what it would have been like, to have a mother who loved her unconditionally. She relaxed for a moment, and wrapped her arms around Mae's shoulders. As quickly as she let it happen, Elphaba pulled away and threw herself down in one of the kitchen chairs. There was a tense moment of silence before she spoke.

"You have no idea," she tried to explain, "how close I am…I was…to being a crazy, bitter old woman myself…"

Mae pulled another chair up in front of Elphaba and tipped her face to meet her eyes. "I don't care who you were, no one deserves to be treated like that. Not you, or any other colored individual."

Elphaba furrowed her brow, "I don't understand. What other colors are there? Are we all not colored?"

Mae sighed heavily and brushed a strand of hair from Elphaba's face. Her mothering instincts were strong, and soothing, "Maybe where you come from, things are different, but I'm afraid there are a lot of wrongs we've yet to right in this world. Miss Letty, and her little son Josiah," Mae continued, "they're colored folks. Our government freed them from slavery, only to isolate them from the rest of society with a thick veil of prejudice."

Elphaba swallowed hard, a sick feeling settling in her stomach. So, without Animals to persecute, this world had settled for the color of skin as a reason for stripping people of the basic dignity of humanity.

"I suppose," she began softly, "that I've been labeled 'colored' as well?"

Mae took her hand, "To me, you're just another shade of gray."

Elphaba smiled a little, truly appreciating Mae's outlook on things.

"Tigelaar!" Wilbur exclaimed suddenly, startling both women, "That's where I've heard it before! There was a colored man in White Springs some years back with that name. Always did seem odd. Maybe you've got some kin here after all…"

Wilbur gave Elphaba a crooked smile, innocently hoping to lighten her mood. The massive implications of his words were altogether lost on both Mae and himself, as their houseguest paled before them and nearly fainted.


	8. Chapter 8: A Time to Search

**Chapter 8: A Time to Search**

Elphaba paled so severely that Wilbur hurried over and took her hand, to keep her from falling from the chair. He gripped her tightly, gently pressing her head forward to help her remain conscious.

"Elphaba?" he asked in his low, steady voice, "Elphaba?"

Elphaba took a few long, deep breaths as the adrenaline coursing through her counteracted the initial shock. As her head cleared, she slowly stood and began to pace in her customary fashion.

"Child, sit down. We don't need you faintin' on us and hurtin' yourself," Mae instructed, although not unkindly.

Elphaba was undeterred. She wrung her hangs and tried to speak, "You don't understand…I have to…I mean if there's some possibility that…but there couldn't be. It just isn't possible…"

Mae tried to stop the pacing, taking Elphaba's shaking hands, "You're not making sense, child. What isn't possible?"

"I have to look…if he's out there, I have to find him…"

"Who?" Mae and Wilbur asked the question simultaneously.

Elphaba opened her mouth to answer, but found she couldn't bring herself to utter his name. The wound was still too deep, festering beneath the tough layers of scars that had unwillingly formed. The idea of his being alive was so very ludicrous, so beyond reason, that the possibility twisted the knife that was permanently lodged in her heart.

Instead of answering, Elphaba stood, openmouthed, for a long moment. Finally, she resumed both speaking and pacing, "Do you have horses? Surely, you must have horses. Could you teach me to ride? I've had very limited experience, although I'm sure I could pick it up. I have, after all, spent a great number of years riding a—" she stopped short of the word 'broom'. Even people as accepting as Mae and Wilbur were sure to question the idea of riding on brooms.

"I've ridden other things," she finished instead.

Mae stepped in front of Elphaba and took her hands, finally ceasing her frantic pacing, "Child, of course we'll teach you how to ride. I just hope that…" she paused, "I hope what you're looking for is out there," Mae finished softly.

Elphaba forced a smile, not at all confident that she could ever possibly find what she was looking for. However, the idea of having a purpose, having something to do, made this strange place seem less daunting.

So, for the next week, Mae took her out at dawn to ride the handful or horses she and Wilbur kept in their pasture. Mae was surprisingly adept with the animals, mounting effortlessly and moving fluidly with their gait. Two of the horses were powerful, black Shire horses, used for pulling the wagon and plows. Two were Arabian, Mae had explained, both shades of chestnut. The fifth was a beautiful, black and white Appaloosa that Mae called Lucy.

On the fifth morning, Mae mounted Lucy, settling herself into her favorite old and worn saddle. She directed Elphaba toward Jasper, the youngest, most spirited of the Arabians. Elphaba cocked an eyebrow upward, but she clutched the reigns and swung one leg easily over the saddle.

Mae led the way through the pasture, into the open plains beyond. They trotted easily, allowing the horses to graze and drink from the small stream that snaked across the edge of the property. Elphaba took to it naturally, drawing from her many years maneuvering a small, uncooperative, magicked broom across the sky. She fell easily into the rhythm of the horse, lightly holding the reigns as the powerful animal moved beneath her. She rode astride, as did Mae, finding the restraints of sidesaddle pretentious and ridiculous in the wide open plains.

"I'm much too old to care about an antiquated social custom that is entirely impractical in this frontier town," Mae had said, smiling as she swung her skirts over the saddle.

This day was bright and warm, bringing out the golden flecks in Jasper's coat. Elphaba spurred him with her heels, sending him into an easy lope. Mae followed easily, a gleam of pride in her eye as the wind whipped the horses' manes. Elphaba clutched the reigns a little tighter, glancing over at Mae as she leaned her body into the horse's. Mae gave a slight nod of approval, and Elphaba broke away into a full gallop.

A rush of adrenaline shot through her as Elphaba felt the thrill of the wind on her face. Not since she had flown had she felt this freedom, this connection to nature that seemed to be bred into her. So many things seemed to fade away as she thundered across the grassy landscape. She was so engrossed in the feeling of riding, she didn't notice she'd crossed the border of the property into a neighboring field until she saw a group of people gathered outside. They must have been having a luncheon gathering of some sort, as food was spread out on the long, wooden table before them.

As Elphaba thundered towards them, their faces registered surprise and shock. Her hair had pulled loose from its pins and flew haphazardly in a wild, black streak. To them, she must've looked as wild as the animal she rode, exotic and colorful, and riding with the confidence of the men who herded cattle beyond the borders of the town. As she rode past, Elphaba caught their looks of awe, mixed with a little fear.

"They surely hate me," she whispered, hardly able to hear her own voice over the pounding horse.

_They don't know you, _she heard suddenly.

She hesitated for a moment, shocked, before realizing it must have been Jasper who answered her.

_Hold on, _she heard him again, and without question she clutched the reigns.

Jasper stopped with the precision of a well-trained herding animal, and reared back on his hind legs. Elphaba clutched him tightly, melding her body with his as she had done many times when her broom kicked upward in a sudden updraft. Jasper let out a deep, guttural call before righting himself and taking off across the plain.

She left the crowd in the dust, to be shocked, angry, inspired, afraid or whatever emotion suited them. As Elphaba galloped away, one face in the crowd was pinched into a hateful grimace.

Myra Spinnaker was not amused.

"You nearly lost me," Mae chuckled as she trotted up beside Elphaba.

Elphaba didn't answer as they made their way back to the farmhouse. Finally, she asked instead, "Have you ever…spoken to your animals?"

Mae considered, "I suppose I talk to them all the time. I respect them for who they are."

"Do any of them answer you?" Elphaba asked.

"Not with words," Mae replied, "Sometimes with their behavior, but they don't speak."

"They speak to me," Elphaba offered, having been raised in a world where such an idea was not absurd.

Mae stared for a moment, not harshly, but in disbelief.

"You can hear them?"

"Not audibly, as it was in Oz. I can hear them in my mind. Even Bala, who's so young, has something to say," Elphaba explained.

They rode in silence for a moment, and Elphaba feared she might have frightened Mae. However, the older woman finally spoke, "That is a gift, child. A gift that is not understood. But I suppose I shouldn't expect any less from someone like you."

Elphaba considered this as they reached the farmhouse and put the horses to graze in the pasture.

"Even here, without magic, I'm different," She mused, as she stroked Jasper's nose before turning him loose.

_Different is good, s_he heard clearly, before he trotted away.

Elphaba cracked a lopsided smile.

The following day was Thursday, and Elphaba was up with the sun. Her search for Fiyero would have to begin tomorrow, as she couldn't miss her meeting with Adrian. Mae simply nodded as Elphaba hurried through breakfast and announced she would be going to the library.

"Be careful," was all Mae said, planting an unexpected kiss on Elphaba's forehead.

Elphaba jerked backward, surprised, yet just a little grateful. With that, she breezed from the house and mounted Jasper, spurring him into a trot in the morning sun.

"She's not a child," Wilbur reminded Mae, coming up behind her as she watched Elphaba's retreating form.

"I know, but some of the people around here can be so…cruel."

"I think she can handle herself, Mae. She's hard as nails, at least on the outside."

Mae nodded, and returned to the kitchen.

Elphaba made it into town easily, negotiating the poor roads smoothly with Jasper's careful step. As she expected, the townsfolk appeared in doorways as she rode through the heart of town. Elphaba kept her focus forward, her head held high.

She stopped at the library, where Adrian stood at the base of the stairs. She dismounted easily, and he looked impressed.

"You're quite the rider. And riding astride, as well," Adrian smiled at her.

"I don't know any other way to ride," Elphaba threw out. She turned to Jasper and instructed, "Stay here, I won't be long."

_I wouldn't leave you._

_S_he nodded, indicating she understood him.

Adrian looked shocked, as Elphaba started up the steps without tying the horse to the post at the street.

"He won't leave me," she threw out as explanation, and then looked impatient as Adrian still did not move.

Elphaba had just managed to pull him to the top of the steps, when the spindly librarian from the previous week emerged, slamming the door behind her. She crossed her arms over her chest and declared, "There's no coloreds allowed in the library. Says so right there," She indicated the hand-painted sign hanging outside the door.

Elphaba's blood ran hot with rage, and she pulled herself up to her full height. Looking down at the other woman, she spat, "Madame, unless you claim to be invisible, I believe you are just as _colored_ as I am. I am quite green, and you are a sickly shade of beige that, quite obviously, men do not care for."

The woman's mouth dropped open a little in shock, but she quickly recovered, "Sheriff!" she shrieked.

Both Elphaba and Adrian turned to see one of the members of law enforcement making his way over, with a small crowd following in curiosity. Elphaba recognized Lenny from the confrontation at the farmhouse.

"What seems to be the problem, Miss Kate?" the middle-aged sheriff drawled, adjusting his belt over his voluminous stomach and wiping the sheen of sweat that had already formed on his brow.

"Mae's colored woman refuses to heed the sign, here. She ain't allowed in the library!" Kate complained in a high, sharp voice.

"I was here just a week ago, and I have caused you no harm!" Elphaba argued.

"Ya tricked me!" Kate pointed an angry finger in Elphaba's face, "And you went against the law, too!"

"I don't see the harm," a young man piped up from the small crowd, "If my coloreds could read, I don't see why they shouldn't use the books. Don't make no sense to have a white library, and a coloreds library."

Elphaba grit her teeth together, "You should hear yourselves, speaking of other people as though they were your property!"

"They was!" an older gentleman barked, "Before the government got involved and gave 'em rights! Now I got to pay 'em to do the same job as before!"

The revolutionist in Elphaba flared to life, and in the moment, she was a young woman again, faced with Animals who were being decimated for simply being who they were. She strode over to the older gentleman, parting the crowd as she walked.

"And how did you come to this knowledge, that your skin color is somehow superior to mine, or anyone else's?" Elphaba hissed, locking eyes with the man.

"God made that choice, when he put the white folks in charge of this country," the man growled in an ominous tone,

"And what color is God, since you have obviously seen him?" Elphaba challenged.

With that, she strode over and seized Kate by one slender arm. She pulled the smaller woman to the center of the crowd, and withdrew a small blade from her tiny satchel of supplies Wilbur had sent with her. In one deft motion, she ran the blade across her forearm, and then across the librarian's arm. A thin line of rich, crimson blood formed quickly on both women and dripped into the dusty soil. Kate gasped and clutched her arm in pain.

Elphaba spoke before Kate could shriek, "I dare one of you," she shouted, "to tell me whose blood is whose once it's fallen to the ground! Tell me, so I can understand what great difference there truly is between us!"

The crowd was deathly silent, and Elphaba waited, her arm outstretched with the wound visible for all to see. Kate seemed riveted to the spot, too shocked to move. She, too, stared at the identical red stripes across their arms. Elphaba started to feel the smallest bit triumphant, as the fight seemed to have drained from the librarian. However, just as Elphaba turned to Adrian, the older gentleman seized her by the arm and twisted her around, clutching her so she could not run.

"You make a good speech, but it's a waste of education if you ask me! You're just as colored as the rest of 'em and you better mind your place in this town," the man's full beard concealed some of his expression, but his eyes were hard, "I'd hate to see you get hurt…"

The threat was not lost on Elphaba. When he slackened his grip, she wrenched away. Jasper snuffled in the distance, sensing danger for her. Adrian finally approached quietly.

"Come on," he whispered, "let me get some books and we'll find somewhere else to talk. It's not worth all this. We can't solve all the world's problems today."

Elphaba clenched her jaw and nodded, very slightly, hating the idea of giving in. She had, however, been given little choice.

The crowd slowly dispersed, with grumbling arguments breaking out amongst the people. They were clearly divided, and many stopped to stare at the tiny red droplets in the dust, clearly indistinguishable. Some of them led Kate away, nursing her arm.

"Watch yourself," was the only warning the Sheriff offered as he made his way back down the street.

Adrian returned after a time, and he and Elphaba made their way down the bustling streets. Elphaba's pulse quickened, her anger mounting as they were greeted by sign after sign stating 'No Coloreds Allowed'.

Sensing another impending explosion, Adrian led the way to a small patch of scraggly trees on the outskirts of the main part of town. They spread themselves out in the sparse shade. Jasper had followed willingly, and he sniffed amongst the dry grasses.

Adrian began to open books and talk animatedly about his research of the eleventh dimension. Elphaba tried to focus, since what he was saying was terribly interesting. However, her mind constantly went back to Wilbur's words from a week previous.

_There was a colored man in White Springs some years back with that name. Always did seem odd…_

"So you see…" Adrian was saying, "There could be an infinite number of universes, all unique, existing simultaneously in dimensions beyond what we can experience, as humans. They're all closer to us than our clothes are to our bodies, but we can't experience them. At least not all at once. Most of us never know more than the world into which we're born. But you…" he trailed off, sensing Elphaba's distraction.

"I'm sorry," Elphaba shook herself, "It's fascinating, truly, and perhaps it does explain Oz. And I want to know more, but…."

"But what?" Adrian looked genuinely concerned.

Elphaba sighed, " But I think what's on my mind right now may be much closer than a quantum leap into another universe. I must resolve this first. I need to know…" she stood and started to mount Jasper, "I will meet you next week, and perhaps be better focused." With that, she threw herself over the powerful animal and trotted away, leaving Adrian with his books.

The next morning, she was gone at dawn, with several bags Mae and Wilbur had wrapped for her. They had insisted on sending food and supplies, along with her clothing. Having always been one to come and go of her own accord, it was awkward for Elphaba. She itched for the freedom of the journey, yet it was nice to know it mattered that she returned.

White Springs was a day's journey from Amber Plains, and the road was as straight as Wilbur had described. Elphaba almost wished it had been more difficult, less well marked, or even cut through a dense forest. The likelihood of her finding Fiyero seemed somehow related to the difficulty of the journey. Instead, she found herself on the outskirts of the small, ramshackle town by sunset. She took a deep breath and trotted down the main street to find a meal for Jasper.

She was greeted by the usual shocked stares and wary glances as she rode through the dusty streets. Elphaba found herself travel weary, and her patience was thin as she approached what looked to be a hostel or rudimentary hotel of some sort. She dismounted and reassured Jasper before shuffling through the creaking wooden door.

"Do you have a room for a traveler, and possibly a place for my horse?" she asked the sharp-eyed woman behind an aging wooden counter. The woman studied her, raking her eyes over Elphaba from the tips of her boots to the top of her raven head. The woman was perhaps Elphaba's age, with dark, russet colored skin and rich, dark eyes that were almost black. Her jet black hair fell over her shoulder in a long, thick braid. Her dress was soft, intricately woven, and beaded. Elphaba couldn't help but stare at her in return.

Finally, the woman answered, "There is a shelter in the back, with hay," she pulled a key from the shelves behind her, "Room six. Do you have any money?"

Elphaba produced a few coins from what Wilbur had packed into her duffle. The woman took just two and pushed the rest back toward her guest.

As Elphaba turned to retrieve Jasper, the other woman threw out, "I am Maiara, if you need anything."

Elphaba met her eyes and nodded, grateful.

She returned to Jasper and led him around the three-story, clapboard structure to the rudimentary barn she found in the rear. She led him into a stall where there was fresh hay and water. The horse snuffled his thanks.

_I am grateful to you. Sleep well._

Elphaba rubbed his nose before returning to the house. She found her room to be quite nice, and she slept well.

When she awoke the next morning, the sun was already bright, and she smelled the warm scents of food cooking downstairs. Dressing quickly in an unassuming dark dress, she tied her hair back securely and anxiously descended the stairs. She found the same woman from the previous evening in a dining room of sorts, with several wooden tables at which were seated an eclectic mix of people.

They all stopped talking when Elphaba entered the room, and a deafening silence followed. Maiara broke the silence by pulling out a chair and calling to Elphaba, "You can sit here, with Miss Tessy. Perhaps she can help you."

Again grateful, Elphaba made her way over to the small table and sat carefully in the high-backed chair. The woman across from her had skin like rich caramel, with lots of dark hair that was intricately braided atop her head. Strands of were trying to escape and create neat little corkscrew at her neck. She ate neatly, and studied Elphaba in a way that was not unfriendly. The others finally resumed their chatter.

Tessy set down her fork and said, "I suppose if I die tomorrow, I can truly say I've seen everything now," she took Elphaba's hand and studied it, as if trying to decide if her eyes were playing tricks on her.

"Was you born this way?" she asked.

Elphaba nodded, holding back her usual snarky comments. Maiara set down a plate in front of her just then, and Tessy asked, "What's your name and your story?"

Elphaba snorted, "My name is Elphaba, and I believe my story is nothing you want to hear. And would take far too long."

Tessy returned to eating, "Then what brings you to White Springs?"

Elphaba took a few bites before answering, "I'm looking for someone. It is most likely an impossible idea, that I would find him here…" she considered for a moment, "His last name was…is Tigelaar."

Tessy nodded, as if in recognition, "There's a Tigelaar on the outskirts of town. There's a whole house of 'em, I believe. I can take you, if you think you'd be welcome."

Elphaba suddenly lost her appetite. She set down her fork and swallowed hard. Her stomach twisted and turned. She forced herself to confront the idea that Fiyero could indeed be alive, but also be living a good life with a new family of his own. She paled, as she was faced with the cruel reality that their time together had been quite short, with no lasting ties, save for the son she had never found the courage to claim. Why should Fiyero, if he had survived, cling to the memory of a young woman he'd carried on an affair with in his youth? Mistresses weren't the stuff of enduring feelings, or lasting memories. He was a man, and perhaps he had not clung to her the way she had to him. Perhaps she had loved him much more than he had ever loved her.

Elphaba suddenly realized Tessy was speaking, and that she'd been staring aimlessly for quite some time.

"Do you want to go?" Tessy was asking.

Elphaba tried to answer, but found her throat was thick and dry. She took a few sips of water and considered.

"Yes," she finally answered, and yet her stomach twisted painfully. Still, she had to know, even if fate was once again against her.

"You want to finish your breakfast?" Tessy asked.

Elphaba shook her head, nauseated.

"All right then," Tessy stood and led the way outside.

Elphaba headed toward the stable, where she found Jasper well rested and fed. She was surprised as Tessy retrieved a speckled mare from another stall, navigating the place as though it were her own.

"I live here," she finally explained, "I keep the place up for Maiara, in exchange for a home. I've not got a husband or family to care for me, and being colored, I ain't got many job prospects in this world."

"I understand," Elphaba answered, and she did, having seen the prejudice herself.

They mounted the horses, and Tessy told her the story of White Springs as they traveled.

"Town was settled by colored folks and Indians whose tribes had been wiped out or drastically relocated. It's unusual for such folks to own land, but they laid claim to it before the white folks could raise a fuss. Land is legally owned now, and even old Jim Crow can't change that. Not many white folks wants to live here, or even trade here, but we've got enough to keep us happy. We just want to live out our lives with our freedom, and hope for a better tomorrow for our children. We don't believe that separate but equal mess in White Springs. The white folks that live here support us. We've got one store for everybody, one restaurant, and so on. Hope that doesn't bother you none, but I imagine it wouldn't…"

Elphaba considered the story, her spirits lifted slightly at the idea of a town where there might be less hate.

"I came here myself because they shot my fiancé for wantin' to marry me. My father was a slave, and my mother was a white, child bride wed to a hateful man. They kept their relationship secret for nearly ten years. That was long enough for me to be born and for her husband to realize I was not the lily white child he hoped for…" Tessy told her story matter of factly, as though such torment was an every day occurrence in the world.

They arrived at a large farmhouse then, and Elphaba did not have time to comment. Tessy dismounted and Elphaba followed, her steps slow and unsure. Tessy rapped on the heavy front door and waited. A young boy answered, dark-skinned and wide-eyed with curiosity.

"Is your mama or daddy home?" Tessy asked.

The boy considered before hollering, "Ma! Ma! Some ladies is here for you!"

The heard footsteps, followed by a booming voice, "It's _are _here, Thomas! You ain't never gonna amount to nothin' in this world if you don't learn to speak better than your Ma…"

A heavyset woman pulled the door open all the way as she wiped her hands on an apron. Her hair was a cloud of corkscrews around her head, escaping from the ties she'd used to try to secure it. She startled slightly upon seeing Elphaba, but recovered.

"How can I help you, ladies?"

Tessy extended her hand, "Name's Tessy, this here's Elphaba. She lookin' for a man by the name of Tigelaar."

The woman considered this for a long moment, before opening the door wider and motioning for them to enter. They followed her to a large kitchen, filled with the sweet smell of apple and cinnamon and fresh dough. They sat at the heavy, wooden table, and the woman left the room. She returned momentarily with a young man of about seventeen.

"My name is Trudy, most calls me Ma. This here's Jacob. He's the most likely to help you. I'll be getting' back to my pie, if you need me," with that, Trudy crossed to the counter, and Jacob sat cautiously at the table.

"Why are you looking for my father?" the young man asked, guarded.

Elphaba felt her world spin, and she clutched the table to keep from fainting. She swallowed hard over the bile as her stomach lurched. She could say nothing. Both Tessy and Jacob stared at her until she finally choked out, "He is your father?"

"Only father I ever had. Only person who ever cared enough to be a father. What's it to you, anyways?"

Elphaba tried to find the words, any words, to explain what it all meant to her. There were none. She finally managed to get out, "Fiyero…was his name Fiyero?"

Jacob nodded, looking increasingly curious.

"Where is he?" Elphaba barely whispered.

Jacob swallowed and looked at his hands, "Would you like something to drink?" he offered.

Elphaba suddenly ran out of patience. She took Jacob's hand, realizing she was trembling as she stared him dead in the eyes, "I've had enough drinks and meals and journeys and confrontations and agonizing choices over the past fourteen years to take me to my grave. Sweet Oz…just tell me where he is!"

Jacob was a little taken aback by her intensity, but he pulled his hand away and began, "My father took us in ten years ago, when I was about seven. There are twelve of us, all ages. We come from all over, mostly abandoned or orphaned in the conflict between Abolitionists and slave traders. Boys and girls. He did right by us, gave us food and this house and let us work the land as family. It's ours…all fifty acres. We live here with Ma now, since father is gone…"

"Where?" was all Elphaba could say.

"Some white men took him about a year ago. Said they were taking him to Texas to be tried in some sort of court. They didn't like what he was doing. Didn't like that he was educated and spoke well and owned land. Didn't like it that he seemed so…different…" Jacob swallowed hard, "I heard them threaten to hang him…and we haven't heard a word in a year…"

Before Elphaba could speak, she realized a young girl was tugging at Jacob's shirt. She'd entered so quietly, none of them had seen her. "Jacob," she questioned, "Are you tellin' them about Yero? When is Yero coming back?" she looked up at the young man with the sad innocence of a child.

Elphaba felt her emotions reel so strongly she struggled to stay upright, "Yero?" she choked out, "You called him Yero?"

Jacob nodded, lifting the little girl into a chair, "It sounded less odd here, than Fiyero. And he said it was a nickname given to him by someone he loved. Someone he loved so much he refused to marry anyone else. That's why we have Ma."

It was too much for Elphaba, to hear how much she'd meant to him, and yet to know he might have died again. The joy and pain combined together until she trembled. The others gasped as she fainted onto the hardwood floor.


	9. Chapter 9: A Time for War

**Chapter 9: A Time for War**

When Elphaba came to, she found she was lying on the floor with a cold, wet cloth pressed against her forehead. On instinct, she started to panic at the feeling of the water against her skin. She forced herself to calm, however, upon realizing where she was and that she was not burning.

A face hovered above hers, softly asking, "Miss? Miss? What did you say her name is again?"

"Elphaba," she managed to choke out herself, as the world became clearer.

Trudy snaked an arm around behind Elphaba's back and handed her a glass of cool water. She took it gratefully, sipping and taking deep breaths as her vision cleared. After a few minutes, both Jacob and Trudy helped her back into one of the chairs at the table.

They all studied Elphaba, daring each other to ask the questions that were swirling through their minds. Jacob, perhaps because he was the most invested, dared to speak first, "How do you know my father?" he asked.

Elphaba sat deathly still for several minutes, unsure of how to begin, or that she was even capable of telling her story. Finally, Tessy took her hand, "Look Miss Elphaba, this world's full of sad, horrible, tragic things. I've seen 'em myself. Nothing you tell us could be worse than what we've seen in our lifetimes. So go on," Tessy stated softly.

Elphaba looked at each of them. There was Tessy, the illegitimate, unwanted child who watched her fiancé die. There was Jacob, and this little girl, who had seen unknown horrors that had left them without parents. Suddenly, she didn't feel quite so alone.

She took a shaky breath and began, "Fiyero was…is….we were…" she struggled with the words, "I loved him. I still love him. After fourteen years, I still love him. And all this time I thought….I knew, he was dead…" Elphaba was mostly talking to herself as she tried to work out this strange turn of events.

"So you know where he's from?" Jacob asked quietly.

Elphaba nodded, "Yes, but I'm afraid I can't tell you, at least not in any way that you would understand. It's a place that is very different from here, and yet sometimes very much the same…"

Jacob nodded, then asked, "So, were you his wife?"

"No," Elphaba answered very softly.

"Lovers, then?" Tessy interjected.

Elphaba nodded again, "We were both very young, very idealistic. I worked for an underground organization, trying to right some of the world's wrongs," she took a deep breath, "He…died for me, or so I thought. He died trying to protect me or help me, or maybe just because….he loved me…"

The others were silent, but instead of shock or disbelief, Elphaba could see empathy in their eyes. She took another deep breath, having never told this story before. Sarima had never given her the chance.

"I found him…and there was so much blood…" her voice was choked and hoarse as she remembered, "It was on my hands, my clothes, my face…it was in my hair…" Elphaba flashed back momentarily, and she could see the spidery web of blood-soaked strands. She could smell the sickly metallic scent of it. It was too much for her, and she ran for the nearest door and vomited, much as she had done that horrific night in the corn exchange.

Some time later, after she'd composed herself, she accepted Trudy's offer that she and Tessy stay for lunch. She wasn't terribly hungry, considering, but Elphaba tried to pick her way through fried chicken, with greens and homemade biscuits and gravy. It was every bit as good as Mae's cooking, and the sounds of this big, close-knit family calmed her nerves. Yet deep down inside, her soul was unsettled, and she knew she would not rest until she looked into Fiyero's eyes, or looked upon his grave.

She was trying to swallow a few bites as Tessy turned and examined her, "It's no wonder you're so thin," she commented, "You've eaten no more than five of six bites since we met," Tessy's mouth turned up a tiny smile, to show she meant well.

Elphaba tried to smile in return, and she turned her attention to each of the faces at the table. All of the children had joined them for lunch, eager to meet this new stranger who'd come to visit. The four oldest boys were Jacob, Jeremiah, Benjamin and Jesse. Jeremiah, the oldest, had brought his family up from the house he'd built on a portion of the family property.

They had all been very gracious, Elphaba had to admit. Very rarely had she been this easily accepted, with such little fuss or fanfare. The youngest child, who'd first asked about Fiyero, was Molly. She had carefully taken Elphaba's hand and explored it, comparing it to her own, "I am brown and you are green," she had proudly announced, with the matter-of-fact innocence of a five year old.

One of the younger boys had greeted her politely and stated, "Yero always said to love everyone, no matter what they look like. He said, you never know what color person might show up at the door," the boy had paused then, "Guess he sure was right…"

Elphaba had chuckled at that.

They were finishing their meal now, and the younger children were begging to go outside and swim in the pond just beyond the house. Trudy shooed them out the door, and Elphaba started to help clear the dishes.

Jacob stopped her, "Can we talk?" he asked, and she followed him onto the porch.

He cleared his throat and began, "I know we've just met, and I'm barely old enough to be the man of this house, but I'd like you to come with me. I want to look for my father. Jeremiah can't go…he has his wife and daughter to attend to. I need Benjamin and Jesse here at the house, to look after things. Will you come with me?" Jacob looked at her with a maturity beyond his years.

"I will find him," Elphaba answered, her voice intense, "I already intended to find him. If it takes the rest of my life," she paused, "So yes, I will go with you."

Jacob thanked her, and after a moment added, "You must love him very much…"

Elphaba simply nodded.

After another long moment, Jacob mused, "You would make an excellent mother, the way you love so strongly."

Elphaba looked away, knowing how disappointed he would be if he knew the truth.

They returned to Maiara's inn that evening, with Jacob on his black Arabian, his bags packed. They were to set out for Amber Plains at dawn, and then continue on to Texas. Tessy insisted on coming as well, explaining that three was safer than two, and that neither Jacob nor Elphaba knew a lick of where they were going. Elphaba suspected that Tessy needed the adventure. She must have been living a very solitary life at the inn. She seemed to grasping for some sort of change. So they accepted her help, not relishing the idea of being lost. Tessy talked with Maiara for a long time that evening, and in the morning, as they were finishing their breakfast, Maiara approached Elphaba.

"This is for you, colorful one," Maiara extended her hand and presented a beaded necklace, intricately detailed with many shapes and colors of stones.

Elphaba studied it as Maiara fastened it around her neck, "It's quite beautiful," she whispered as she felt the coolness of it on her neck.

"My people used to make them, before they disappeared. It will give you strength, and peace."

"Your people?" Elphaba was curious.

"I am Cheyenne, a native people who were here long before the white man, or the brown man, or you, the green woman. Most of my tribe was wiped out by disease, nearly ten years ago," Maiara's eyes were sad as she explained.

Elphaba reached out and squeezed her hand, and once again thanked her for the necklace. It was in times like this that she realized how hopeless words are, at soothing the grieving soul. Maiara smiled a little and sent her on her way, insisting they get an early start.

The three of them left just as dawn had faded into daylight, their horses heavy-laden with supplies. Elphaba led the way to Amber Plains, retracing her journey of two days prior with ease. They would stop at Mae and Wilbur's for the night, and to retrieve Elphaba's things. Afterward, they would set out for Texas, a journey that Tessy said could take more than two weeks by horse. They would take the train, which could be costly, but cut the travel time down to roughly two days.

That night, they sat around Mae and Wilbur's table, outlining their strategy.

"Where did you say they took him?" Elphaba asked Jacob as they sipped warm tea.

"Dallas," Jacob answered, "It's the biggest city in this area. Said they were going to try to him in some sort of federal court."

Elphaba pursed her lips and fought back anger, "If it's anything like some of the trials I have witnessed, justice will play no part." She seethed.

Jacob nodded, his expression grave.

So they set out the next morning, rattling over the countryside to the train station with both Mae and Wilbur at the reigns of the horse cart. They arrived just after nine o'clock, and Elphaba could feel the ground shake as the huge, steam engine powered into the station. They walked the length of the platform and climbed into a third-class car, the only way they could hope to travel. They were a few stares and grunts of acknowledgement from the other working-class folks, and they tried to be unassuming as they stowed their bundles.

Mae pulled Elphaba back outside for a moment before they could depart, "Be careful child," she pleaded, and the tears in her voice were genuine, "This world is full of thorns. Tread carefully," she pulled Elphaba into an embrace and held her. Elphaba's heart ached for a moment, and she realized she was glad Mae cared. She was glad that she mattered.

The train blew its whistle and Elphaba hustled to sit down before it groaned its way toward Texas.

It was hot, as none of the third-class cars were enclosed or even well ventilated. They sat close to each other on makeshift benches and constantly chased their baggage around the floor when the train made a long, shifting turn. None slept much, and Elphaba was itching for freedom by the time the relatively tall buildings of a city came into view. She shook Jacob awake and shifted slightly so Tessy could see out the small window. The buildings grew taller as they clamored into the heart of Dallas, some rising as much as six stories. It was slightly reminiscent of the outskirts of the Emerald City, and Elphaba felt a little more comfortable. She knew how cities worked. This was a challenge she could navigate.

When the train came to a heaving stop, they finally tumbled out of the car and onto the platform. They all felt a little stale and in need of a thorough bathing.

"I think I would've preferred the horse," Jacob muttered as he tried to dust the grime off his trousers.

"After a few days in the Oklahoma sun, you'd be far more disgusting," Tessy chuckled.

They hoisted their bundles and made their way down the platform and into the soaring station. The wood and masonry building was intricately detailed and hummed with the ticketing, chatter, and comings and goings of hundreds of people. Elphaba took the lead, pulling the wide-brimmed hat Mae had given her over her brow. She plowed through the crowd with Jacob and Tessy trailing behind. It would've been hard to tell she was green, in the high-necked, dark dress Mae had found. Her hands were sheathed in well-made gloves, even in the summer warmth. The people around them were distracted and caught up in their travels, so the three of them made their way out of the station with little trouble. They stopped outside to consider their choices.

"It'll be dark soon," Jacob commented, "and we'll need lodging."

Elphaba nodded her agreement, and led the way down the dusty street. She followed her instinct, keeping close to the other working class travelers as they turned away from the well-dressed ladies and gentlemen. The streets narrowed and the buildings sagged as they made their way into the seedier part of town. The sounds of wailing infants and street peddlers filled their ears as they turned onto a street bustling with the energy of people who had no time or money to waste on pretentiousness.

"There," Tessy pointed to faded, wooden sign dangling over a doorpost. It read simply, 'Hostel'.

Elphaba looked at her quizzically.

"It's a place to stay, for travelers. Not quite a hotel or inn, but it'll do," Tessy explained.

Jacob and Elphaba followed, hefting their bags up the steep front steps and through the heavy, front door. A heavyset woman with wild, flyaway hair and a hint of a mustache raised an eyebrow at them from behind a desk as they entered.

"We're in need of two rooms," Jacob stated matter of factly, looking her in the eye.

The woman took in the odd threesome, peering at Elphaba through the shadow of her hat, "You's all colored?" she finally asked.

Jacob's jaw clenched and Elphaba's hands instinctively balled into fists, but Tessy answered for them, "Yes," knowing they didn't need trouble here.

Tessy hastily handed over their payment and took the keys the woman offered.

"Basement," the woman barked, "It's all I got for coloreds." She tossed them two keys and grunted toward a dark stairwell.

They bit back their retorts and descended the stairs, all three of them tired, dirty, and hungry. They found their rooms at the end of the dark hallway, and pushed open the creaking doors. Inside, they found bare cots, a cracked washbasin and a foggy, slit of a window that let in the grimy, pallid, fading sunset. Elphaba stood very still, taking in the odor of urine, prostitution, and endless filth. Her head spun for a moment, as the scene was eerily reminiscent of a room she'd once occupied, where she'd been stripped of her clothing, dignity, and personhood on a regular basis. She shook her head, to bring herself back to the present.

Tessy took the cot to the left, so Elphaba dropped her things on the opposite bed. Jacob deposited his things in his equally squalid room, and then rapped on their door.

"We should eat," he offered, "Tomorrow could be…complicated."

Both Tessy and Elphaba nodded their agreement, and they climbed the stairs and exited back into the warm evening air. After some searching, they managed to secure a greasy meal from a vendor. Exhausted, they then returned to the hostel to try to get at least a decent night's sleep.

The morning sunlight found them weary, yet resolute. Elphaba dressed in unassuming grays, her hair tightly knotted and the wide-brimmed hat on her head. She pushed her feet into her dark boots as Jacob pushed open the unlatched door.

"Ready?" he asked.

Elphaba considered for a moment whether she would ever truly be ready, and then nodded slowly. They made their way onto the bustling street, and the cresting sun hinted that it would be a warm day. They glanced curiously at the peddlers they passed, taking in the scent of onions, roasting potatoes, and fresh tea imported from some place exotic. Freshly died fabrics fluttered out at them, their colors drowned out only by the merchant next door, hawking jewelry of unknown origins. It was a familiar scene, for Elphaba, one that seemed destined to repeat itself in cities across the world, the universe, and even the cosmos. The creativity and sufficiency of the poor seemed to be a thread that was woven into the fabric of life itself.

Elphaba was lost in thought when a hand reached out and took hers. She was startled, and began to pull away, when she met a pair of sharp, dark, ancient eyes. The woman was shabbily dressed, her hair thin and carelessly knotted. The hands were gnarled and spotted, and shook slightly as she lightly examined Elphaba's palm.

Jacob stepped out, but Elphaba stilled him with a wave of her free hand. The older woman didn't seem to mean any harm. She traced the lines in Elphaba's hand, muttering to herself. At last, she looked up, her eyes boring into Elphaba's with frightening intensity, "So much sadness," her voice croaked, "So very much sadness. Sadness that has been, sadness that lingers…sadness yet to come…" she trailed off, still holding Elphaba's hand.

Elphaba jerked away with a little gasp. She found herself speechless as the heaviness in her stomach increased.

Tessy stepped up, slipped the woman a coin, and pulled the three of them on their way, "Crazy old woman," she threw out, "They'll tell you anything for a penny."

Elphaba nodded, trying to look nonchalant, but her soul ached with the possibility that she was walking into another nightmare.

After a time, Jacob stopped to speak with what appeared to be a member of law enforcement. The man wore a makeshift uniform and appeared to be keeping the peace on the block. Jacob turned back to Tessy and Elphaba after a moment of discussion.

"He says we need to visit the courthouse, about thirty blocks in this direction. It's across from the main Sheriff's office. It serves as the hub for all federal matters, and houses the main prison. If the men that took Yero had anything to do with the federal government, they would've gone there," Jacob explained, looking resolute.

Both women nodded, and they set out walking the thirty blocks. They arrived at the courthouse tired, sweaty, and having endured an endless line of slurs and jeers. As an ironically fitting end cap to a frustrating journey, they were greeted by a hateful, printed sign on the courthouse doors that read 'No Coloreds Allowed'.

Elphaba cursed and stormed down the street, her anger and frustration combining to create an explosive reaction. In the nearest alley, she found a man resting against some piles of garbage. His hat sagged over his brow and his trousers were endlessly patched and faded. He wore a mismatched overcoat that didn't fit his spindly frame. Elphaba kicked him into consciousness and drug him to his feet. He tried to make sense of his surroundings.

Noting the numerous bottles around him, Elphaba hissed at him, "How much liquor will this buy you?" she shoved a coin in his face. Encouraged by the toothless smile he showed, she pulled the coin away and demanded, "Can you read?"

"Sure's I can read. I ain't stupid," the man croaked.

"Well that's debatable, but if you can read, and remain conscious, you're the right shade of sickly pale for this job," Elphaba spat.

"What job?" he looked wary.

"I need someone to get into the courthouse. I'm looking for…someone charged with a crime," Elphaba tried to explain it simply.

The man chuckled a little, "I don't know that I's the right person to be going into no courthouse…"

"Just don't commit any crimes while you're in there, you blathering moron," Elphaba growled, not one to invest much in patience.

"We're looking for a man by the name of Fiyero Tigelaar," Jacob interjected, sensing a fight brewing, "He was arrested in Kansas about a year ago. There must be a list of the accused, or of those who've been tried. He could even be a prisoner."

"For every day you help us, they'll be another payment," Tessy threw in.

The man considered, rubbing his stubbly chin with dirt-encrusted fingers, "Deal," he finally agreed, extending one grubby hand, "and the name's Jed."

Elphaba cocked an eyebrow upward, "You'll have to earn our names," she tossed out, pressing one coin into his hand and pushing him toward the courthouse.

The three of them waited in the shadows as Jed disappeared up the steps and into the ominous looking building. After a few moments, Elphaba spoke, "I suppose they might throw him out. He certainly doesn't look as though he belongs…"

"They have to let him in, it's a public building," Jacob mused.

"And he might look like hell and smell the same, but he's white," Tessy threw out, with more than a hint of bitterness.

By the time Jed emerged from the building, the sun was sinking low in the west, and Elphaba's nerves were stretched to the breaking point. Jed was smirking a little, though, which seemed somewhat positive.

"Let's have it," Elphaba demanded.

Jed smirked a little more and held out his hand, "I think answers deserve another payment."

Elphaba seized him by the collar and pressed her face to his, "You'll get another payment tomorrow, as we agreed. Now you'll tell me what you know right now, or I'll turn you into horse manure in less time than your pathetic little brain can figure out how to blink!"

There was something in her strange, dark eyes, compounded by her other-worldly, emerald complexion that birthed fear in Jed. Somehow, he believed she could make good on her word, "I's got to see the clerk of court, at the sheriff's office. They keep a list there of all prisoners, both sentenced and set free," Jed grumbled, backing away from Elphaba, "But they's don't open 'till tomorrow at nine."

Elphaba cursed again and kicked at the trash at her feet. Jacob laid a reassuring arm over her shoulders, "We'll be here tomorrow at nine sharp," he told Jed, "Be here if you want your payment."

Jed nodded and shuffled away to spend his meager earnings. The other three made their way wearily back to the hostel, making a meal out of bread and a little ale they purchased from a vendor. Each of them recognized the need to preserve their funds, since a chunk of it would be going to pay off a drunken bum for his help.

Elphaba slept fitfully that night, and she woke before dawn. She stared for some time at the starry sky through the dirty window, finding herself terribly close to prayer as the day began to break.

Some time later, morning came and began a series of days that would follow a similar pattern. The manifest of the accused proved to be a lengthy volume, with hundreds of names of those who had passed through the courthouse in the past year. Not knowing when Fiyero might have arrived and been processed, they had to start more than a year prior. Elphaba's patience grew thin, her resolve dissipating as each day became another, and another.

Several days into their search, after they had paid off Jed once again, they returned to their filthy home exhausted. Elphaba sat on her cot, picking listlessly at some dried fruit.

"Don't lose heart," Tessy offered from her cot a few feet away.

Elphaba snorted, "I believe I lost my heart a long time ago, or perhaps had it ripped from me."

Tessy considered this for a moment, before crossing the few feet between them to sit down next to Elphaba. "You haven't lost your heart," Tessy looked her straight in the eyes, "Maybe it's bruised and broken and tore up rightly nicely, but you've got it. I see it in you."

Elphaba was startled, because Tessy was so close and yet refused to back away in the face of Elphaba's icy exterior.

"Some things in this life," Tessy continued, "they tear us up, bring us to our knees and make us question God himself. Humans are capable of great atrocity. But you know what can defeat that?"

Elphaba shook her head, transfixed.

"Great love," Tessy answered, "and an iron-clad will."

Elphaba looked away for a moment before answering, "Love hasn't helped me much," she mused.

"Sure it has," Tessy argued, "Love has kept you alive. Love has made you angry and determined and willing to fight for what matters. I know love has kept me going, when I was absolutely alone. Love, and sheer will, kept me going 'till I met you. Believing in love helped me become more than a half-breed slave girl who was raped by her mother's husband. Love overcomes," Tessy finished.

Elphaba sat in absolute silence for a moment. Her emotions reeled and tumbled over one another. She wanted to run, to make excuses and spit out short, harsh words that would push Tessy away. But she wasn't a young girl anymore, and she was tired. She had run long and hard and fruitlessly for so long. So instead, she reached out and took Tessy's hand. Elphaba wasn't able to look her in the eyes. She wasn't ready to confess the haunting secrets of her past, secrets that had only been shared with Fiyero. But she took Tessy's hand.

After a few long minutes, Elphaba asked in a voice that was barely a whisper, "Would you…you can call me…Elphie."

Tessy nodded, sensing the sacred nature of the moment. Almost prophetically, she finally added, "We're sisters, you and I."

Elphaba looked away, as two isolated tears slid down her cheeks.

Tessy pretended not to see.

Another week passed without Jed uncovering a shred of evidence as to Fiyero's location. Elphaba was at the point of giving up, starting to question whether they'd all been crazy to undertake such a mission. It was in this state of frustration that Jed found them when he burst from the sheriff's office one blazing afternoon. He waved a piece of paper about and smiled like a drunken loon.

"What is it?" Elphaba snapped when Jed was in earshot, her patience nonexistent. She snatched the piece of paper from his hand and tried to decipher the scrawling words.

_Fiyero Tigelaar. July 3__rd__. Accused of acting in defiance of the federal government and possessing acreage outside the allotment for colored citizens. Held in contempt. Awaiting trial._

Elphaba read it over and over. Adrenaline pulsed through her, pounding in her head, and she began to tremble.

"Won't tell me a thing, though," Jed was saying, "Says it ain't my business what goes on with their prisoners. Says I can come to the trial, when it's posted. Trials is public."

Elphaba grit her teeth, and the revolutionist within her took over. She crossed the street in a few nimble strides and stormed into the sheriff's office in a whirlwind of green and black. The others stumbled behind her, trying to stop her mad frenzy before it inevitably led to trouble.

"I want to see this prisoner!" Elphaba demanded, shoving the piece of paper toward the hulking man behind the carved wooden desk.

"Are you kin?" the man asked.

Elphaba looked perplexed.

"Are you family?" he clarified.

"No," Elphaba answered, "not a blood relative, but—"

The man cut her off, "Then you've got no business in here. Trials will be posted." He turned back to his work.

Elphaba felt her blood run hot and her calm melt away as she seethed, "Look," she crossed to the desk and leaned in, so that her face was pressed close to the much larger man's, "I am not leaving here until I look this prisoner in the face. So I suggest you find a way to make that happen, unless you'd like to see this courthouse as a smoldering pile of ashes!"

The man looked her up and down, looking slightly amused as he considered her, "Perhaps there is a way," he conceded, just as Jed, Tessy, and Jacob tumbled through the doors.

Elphaba gave them a look that said to stay put as she followed the tall, uniformed man down a narrow hallway. He stopped at a holding cell and jangled heavy keys as he opened the lock. He led her inside, and she half expected to see Fiyero in a corner, suffering, yet alive. Instead, she found no one, and heard the clank of the lock behind them. It was quiet for a moment, as the man studied her. The room was all shadows and murky light, and they were very much alone.

"I've never seen skin of such color," he mused, stepping close enough that Elphaba could smell the scent of tobacco on his breath, "I wonder," he began to inch closer, forcing her to stumble backward toward the wall, "what the rest of your skin looks like, underneath…"

Elphaba's back hit the wall. Her escape route had run out. The man pressed himself against her, allowing his hands to wander into her hair. She knew what he wanted, what he expected from her. Her body was to be her payment for information about Fiyero.

Had she been younger, had she not known the torment of abuse, she might have considered it. She might have given in and paid the price. However, the memory of being used and tossed away over and over again was forever etched into her memory. Panic and rage welled up in her as the man ran his hands over her body, trying to hitch up her dress and get to her skin underneath. Elphaba fought with all her might as he tried to pin her against the wall, and then tossed her onto the small bed instead. She clawed and screamed and flailed with all her limbs as he tried to pin her down with his sheer size. When he pulled one hand away to try to undo his trousers, she seized the opportunity and bit him, hard enough to draw blood through his thick skin.

He hollered in pain, and released her arms at the distraction. She pummeled and clawed him, drawing up long, red welts where her nails dug into his skin. He cursed and stood up, seizing her by her hair, which had come loose from its pins.

"All right, you little viper! You had your chance, and you've blown it! Nothing is worth this! And now you'll get the same punishment that's coming to any disobedient, out of control, colored woman!" with that, he drug her from the holding cell down a long hall, then through a door into a dingy courtyard. Prisoners of various ethnicities and statures worked at manual labor across the yard. Few dared to look up, clearly fearing punishment themselves. The man drug Elphaba to a post at the center of the courtyard and bound her hands to it with thick, coarse rope.

"This woman is being punished for violating clearly stated Jim Crow laws, and for attempting to foul this honorable court with prostitution, and other lude acts!" the man announced for the benefit of the other uniformed guards who might be listening.

With that, he picked up a large stick and swung it in a wide arch, connecting with her back with a loud crack. Elphaba groaned as the breath was knocked from her, and she tried to gasp before the stick connected with her body again. Her legs began to tremble as the man released his fury and the sting of his wounded pride on her thin and poorly protected body. She wanted to collapse, but her wrists were bound at eye level, and she was forced to stand. She fought tears, and she felt utterly powerless, like a complete failure. Perhaps when she'd been unable to cry, she would have considered it a sign of weakness, but life was starting to take the fight out of her. Elphaba didn't know that she would ever understand the vileness of man. She tried to find some empathy, knowing that she had once been on the verge of murder and vicious revenge, herself. Struggling to stand, she began to grow dizzy and her wounds bled, bruises formed, and bones cracked.

As the beating continued, the empathy became defeat, and she let her tears fall into the dusty, Texas soil. When the man saw that she was crying, her released her hands and threw her into the dirt. Something struck her hard across the face. She remembered nothing else.

Tessy, Jacob, and Jed still stood nervously at the front door when the man finally returned, his uniform disheveled and speckled with drops of blood.

"I'll take you to her, and you get her out of here," he ordered them breathlessly, "And if she survives, she better not ever show her face here again!"

He led them down the long hallway to take Elphaba's broken body back to Amber Plains, their mission now abandoned.


	10. Chapter 10: A Time to Heal

**Chapter 10: A Time to Heal**

Elphaba's world became a series of images, swirling and fading into one another, sometimes animated, sometimes eerily still. The corn exchange, strangely lit, was the most common vision. In it, she felt Fiyero's body pressed against hers. Her senses were heightened as she relived the first time she'd pressed him against the smooth, cool wood of the wall. She could feel the heat of his skin on hers, and it was more than sexual. He felt so wonderfully real, the way he embraced her completely, wholly. All the things she loathed about herself ceased to matter when he looked into her eyes. She could smell his scent and feel the coarseness of his hair, until the memory faded and changed.

Then, she was once again surrounded by swirls of sticky, blood-stained, black hair that seemed to suffocate her. In her delusion, she clawed at nothingness and called out Fiyero's name until her sleep became mercifully dreamless once again. She would rest heavily for a time, and then her mind would fix on him again, trying to find some healing in the only lover she'd ever known.

Mae refused to leave Elphaba's side. She kept a vigil, watching the sun set and then rise, only nodding off sporadically. She had dressed the wounds as best she could, and was pleased when her work was complimented by Doc Joseph. He declared most of Elphaba's injuries to be superficial, including a few broken ribs. She had bled heavily from the blow to her head, however, and infection had set in from the long journey back to Amber Plains. Both Mae and the doctor had done all they could, and Mae had prayed unceasingly for Elphaba's recovery. The night before, Elphaba's fever had finally broken, and Mae could only pray that the drugs the Doc had given were taking hold.

This afternoon, tears pricked Mae's eyes as she pressed a cool cloth against Elphaba's face. She was gentle, avoiding the ugly, grayish welts and the long, crimson line of the wound that ran from her left temple to her chin. She reached for her favorite hair brush and began to work it through the long, supple locks of Elphaba's hair. This was the first time she'd really seen it, because the green woman kept it tied up so tightly.

Mae was brushing her tears away when Wilbur approached her from behind, shuffling across the room in the fading summer sun, "Mae, you must sleep. It's been days…" he softly pleaded.

"I'll be fine. Ain't never heard of no one dying from a few days lost sleep," Mae snapped, more harshly than she intended.

Wilbur took her hand, and she gave him a long look, silently apologizing. They could do that, after nearly forty years together.

"I'll make some more coffee," Wilbur offered, padding quietly into the kitchen.

Mae couldn't help but wonder, as she absentmindedly brushed Elphaba's hair, what the younger woman saw in the nightmares she was obviously having. Her lips would mumble incoherently, as her eyes flitted beneath her lids. She also grasped at nothingness, and Mae would try to still her.

Tessy burst through the door just then, shattering the palpable quiet that had settled over the Proctor home. Her hair was a wild cloud of ochre corkscrews, not nearly contained by the strip of cloth she'd tied around her head. Her dress, once yellow, was faded and dusty. She kicked off her grimy boots, out of respect, and dropped her satchels on the floor. Then she crossed the room to where Mae sat.

"I'm sorry I was gone longer that we thought. Jacob's household was mighty concerned and Maiara wanted to talk with me before I returned," Tessy explained, having spent the past few days in White Springs, collecting her things and seeing that Jacob returned safely to his family.

"It's good to have you back, and perhaps get to know you a little better," Mae replied.

"Hope it's all right that I brought most of my things. Wasn't sure how long I'd be staying. I do appreciate your hospitality, though."

Mae surveyed the bags Tessy had dropped, "If that's all your things, space will certainly be no problem."

Tessy caught the hint of teasing in Mae's voice and tried to smile in return. She saw Elphaba, then, and rushed to her side. She hadn't seen her since they had left her several days earlier, and Tessy was visibly shaken by the ugly bruises and her friend's complete lack of consciousness.

"Oh Elphie…" she whispered, her voice cracking a little.

Mae raised her head slightly at Tessy's easy use of the pet name.

"Elphie?" the older woman questioned.

"She asked me to call her that," Tessy explained quietly, "It seemed important…it seemed to mean…something…"

"It seems a little soft, for someone so…" Mae let her sentence trail off.

"I know," Tessy finished the thought, "but I think not everything about her is so hard. At one point, she must have opened herself up, to this Fiyero."

Mae studied Tessy for a moment, "You're a wise one," she finally concluded.

"I suppose I have to be good at somethin'" Tessy teased softly.

Mae gave her a meaningful look, "Maybe you're just what she needs. Maybe you're the sister she lost, or never had…"

Tessy took Mae's hand across Elphaba, who lay between them, "And maybe you're a mother who needs a daughter…"

Mae's eyes flooded and the tears spilled before she could catch them. She stood suddenly to wipe them away. There was no way Tessy could know that she'd lost a child. It would have been out of character for Elphaba to tell her. This stranger could not know how Mae had hurt, how the quiet loneliness nearly drove her to madness. Still, it felt like this wise, unexpected new friend of Elphaba's was giving her permission to be a mother again, without betraying the child she had lost so tragically. Mae finally smiled a little, through her tears.

"Get some rest," Tessy ordered, though not unkindly, "I'll stay with her."

Mae nodded, clearly exhausted. She climbed the steps wearily, with one last grateful smile.

Tessy sat very still for a long time, watching Elphaba's slow, rhythmic breathing. Wilbur left her a steaming cup of coffee before finally retiring himself. She let her thoughts ramble as she considered this person who'd been a stranger only a few weeks prior. Tessy thought over Elphaba's sporadic, bitter revelations about life and love. She considered her own past, the loss, confusion, and lack of justice that colored her memories.

In the darkness, after night settled in, Tessy lost some of her courage. She had put up a strong front for most everyone, and she had been strong for her new friend. Now, she finally let tears spill down her cheeks at the unfairness of life. Tessy felt her strength fading a notch at the blows, both literal and ephemeral, that Elphaba had been dealt. Feeling very lost, Tessy reached out to whatever might be beyond them all.

_God? If you're out there, I sure wish you'd turn our way just for a moment…_

She left it at that, not sure for what else she should ask, and not sure there would be an answer.


	11. Chapter 11: A Time to Embrace

**Chapter 11: A Time to Embrace**

The next morning, Tessy was startled awake by a steady pounding on the door. She had curled up on the sofa, and she noted that Elphaba still lay before her, breathing evenly. Bala was curled up at Elphaba's side, in the crook created by her body. The cat would not be shooed away, Tessy had discovered, as though she were keeping watch over Elphaba herself.

Tessy rubbed the fatigue from her eyes and rose, against the complaining of her joints, and shuffled slowly to the door. She pulled it open to reveal a tall, slender young man. His dark hair was unruly and a little longer than was common. He clutched an overcoat in his hands, as though he did not completely understand the dry, Kansas heat.

Tessy raised her eyebrows and asked warily, "Can I help you?"

"I'm sorry," the man looked confused, "I'm looking for the Proctor residence…"

Tessy studied him, raking her eyes over him as if to determine whether he might be armed or dangerous, or if she could take him in a brawl. Seeing him fidget nervously, she deemed him harmless. She opened the door wider and gestured for him to come inside.

"I'll get Mae and Wilbur," Tessy offered curtly.

"Thank you, but I'm looking for…Miss Elphaba," his words caught in his throat as his eyes adjusted to the lamplight. His gaze was fixed on the woman lying prostrate on the cot in front of the fireplace. Her body was blanketed, but her skin was clearly green, even in the soft light.

"What—?" he started to ask, clearly alarmed.

"I think you owe me your name, and some sort of explanation before I tell you anything," Tessy's tone was defensive, her arms folded tightly, "I don't intend to see any further harm come to my friend here."

"I'm sorry," the man shook his head and extended his hand, "My name is Adrian."

Tessy shook his hand cautiously.

"I've only known Miss Elphaba for a few weeks. We met quite by chance, at the local library. She was interested in my work, and we'd been meeting. However, she failed to appear for the past several Thursdays, and I was concerned…" Adrian trailed off, looking a little afraid, as though Tessy might chase him out the door at any moment.

"What is your work?" Tessy demanded.

"I work for a professor in Boston. I am a scientist…specifically theoretical physics," Adrian offered.

Tessy studied him for a long moment before deciding he was harmless. His field of study did sound like something the ever-unusual Elphaba would be interested in.

"Have a seat," Tessy tried to smile a little, "I'll make some coffee."

Adrian perched carefully on the edge of a chaise. He tried to avert his eyes, but he was clearly disturbed by Elphaba's very still form before him. Mae and Wilbur clumped down the stairs just then, hastily dressed and a little disheveled. Mae looked relieved when she took in the scene in the living room.

"We heard voices and were worried…" Mae explained, studying Adrian as she crossed to help Tessy in the kitchen.

The young man stood and offered his hand to Wilbur, "My name is Adrian. I'm sorry to have called at your home so early," he apologized.

"So you're the young man from the library," Wilbur relaxed a little in recognition. He shook Adrian's hand and commented, "Elphaba spoke well of you."

"It's nice to finally meet you Adrian," Mae called from the kitchen, "Join us at the table for breakfast and Tessy can fill you in. She knows more than we do."

Adrian nodded his acceptance and took a seat at the long supper table. He gratefully accepted warm coffee, and, after several minutes, freshly warmed biscuits and homemade jam. Tessy slowly filled him in on the details of their journey to Dallas, struggling to make sense of Elphaba's frantic search for a man they knew only as Fiyero.

"I don't know what all they did to her," Tessy finished the story softly, "We just saw the outcome…"

"That's horrendous, that someone would do that. But she never mentioned this Fiyero to me," Adrian commented softly.

The others were nodding their agreement when a low moan from the direction of the fireplace startled them. Tessy bolted toward the living area to grasp one of Elphaba's slender, green hands.

"Elphie?" she whispered.

Mae, Wilbur, and Adrian were close behind, each finding a seat a few feet from where Elphaba lay.

"Elphie? It's Tessy…" she tried again, pulling her chair close enough to sit and watch her friend.

Quiet descended momentarily, as none of them dared to make a sound. The air thickened and crackled with anticipation. Finally, Elphaba stirred slightly and fluttered her eyes. Bala opened her eyes at the same time and perked up her ears, as if sensing something had changed.

"She flinches like this sometimes, as if she might be having nightmares," Mae offered, not entirely sure that Elphaba would awaken.

Not willing to give up hope, Tessy squeezed Elphaba's hand between hers. To her surprise, Elphaba gripped her hand in return. Mae drew a quick breath and shuffled over to the opposite side of the cot. She held one hand against Elphaba's forehead, and found that it was finally cool after days of blistering fever.

"Elphaba?" Mae asked softly.

The green woman fluttered her eyes again, and then slowly opened them. She struggled to focus on the faces around her. She licked her lips and turned toward Tessy.

"Nyalana?" Elphaba asked, her voice scratchy and barely audible.

Tessy shook her head in confusion, "No, Elphie…it's me, Tessy," she clarified.

Elphaba's expression cleared, and recognition colored her dark eyes. Reality seemed to wash over her, and her expression hardened. She raised one hand slowly and stroked Bala's head, drawing a purr from the kitten. No one spoke for several long moments.

"He's dead isn't he?" Elphaba had resignation in her voice, "It was all for nothing, because he must be dead…"

"Who?" Tessy asked.

"Fiyero…" Elphaba's answer was directed at no one, her voice a whisper.

Tessy swallowed hard, "We don't know…he must have been there…and we were so close…"

"What's wrong with me?" Elphaba's attention suddenly turned back to Mae.

Mae tried to smile, "I think you're doing much better, now. You've got a lot of bruising and one heck of a gash on the side of your face. You've also got some fractured ribs, but the fever was the biggest worry. You've been incoherent for days, but I'd say the drugs have taken care of it. You'll be fine," Mae tried to sound encouraging.

"Can I get up?" Elphaba asked curtly.

"I suppose…" Mae was still considering it when Elphaba started trying to pull herself to a sitting position. She and Tessy both quickly reached out and took Elphaba's long, slender arms and helped her pull herself upright. Bala begrudgingly uncurled herself and leapt onto the nearest sofa.

It took both Tessy and Mae to help Elphaba, who insisted not only on getting up, but on leaving the cot to sit on the nearby sofa. She wrapped a blanket tightly around herself, as she was dressed in only a thin nightgown. She quietly accepted a little breakfast from Mae, which she ate solemnly, and without comment.

Adrian finally cleared his throat and addressed her, "I missed you the past few weeks. I was concerned…" he felt the need to explain his presence.

"You needn't concern yourself with me. I can promise you I have very little to offer you," Elphaba snapped, her voice still soft and shaking.

Mae approached and laid a hand on Elphaba's shoulder, "There's no need to get upset," her voice was comforting, "You've been very sick…"

Elphaba shook her off, her eyes cold and hard, "You're right. There's no need to get upset. There's no need to get upset or happy, or sad or angry. There's no need to feel. Not in Oz, not here, not in one life or another," Elphaba paused and the air crackled with tense silence, "Different world, but the same unending torment…" With that, she stood and, although trembling, made her way to the stairs.

Mae leapt up to stop her as she tried to ascend, "No! Elphaba…no. You should rest. There's no need to push yourself," Mae pleaded, trying to take her arm.

Elphaba shook her off. Mae looked startled, and Elphaba knew they could see the raw bitterness in her eyes. As the others stood in shock, she pulled herself up the stairs against the protesting of her trembling, aching body. She knew they wanted to help her, that they loved or cared for her. Still, she was enveloped by a cocoon of pain and anger, much as she had felt in her final days at Kiamo Ko. Her heart felt cold, her hope extinguished.

By the time she reached her bedroom, she was exhausted, dizzy, and nauseated from the effort. Elphaba climbed painfully into the large bed and pulled the quilts to her chin. Bala had padded up the stairs behind her, and she could now leap deftly onto the bed, where she curled up next to Elphaba.

_Sad?_

Elphaba heard the one word question with clarity. It caused something within her to snap, and tears spilled down her cheeks. She felt as if she'd awoken from a cloudy pool of nightmares to a crisp, painful reality that left her with little hope. The dependable cruelty of man had dealt her a crushing blow, and had snuffed out the flicker of hope she'd felt. She had allowed herself to want again, to hope for a future that might be different from her past. And now she was only left with more scars.

As the tears fell, the hollowness within her grew. Elphaba began to wonder how long it might take her to die alone in this room, and whether the great cosmos that Adrian talked about would care to notice her absence.

Mae was not surprised when Elphaba did not emerge from her room the next day, or the next. She had seen the emptiness in her eyes, and realized it was different than the guarded expression Elphaba had worn so far. Now, she looked resigned, defeated, and crushed beyond repair. It grieved Mae terribly.

As she stood in the kitchen a few days hence, worrying, Mae nearly burned the fried chicken she was painstakingly cooking. Tessy finished setting the table and approached, sensing Mae's distress.

"I'm worried about her too," Tessy offered softly, having bonded easily with Mae over the last two days, "She'll starve if she doesn't eat…"

Mae nodded, sitting dishes of food on the table. Tessy began to make a plate for Elphaba, as had become their ritual. They brought food to her room at each meal, even though Elphaba refused to touch a bite. She left off the meat, respectfully remembering that Elphaba wouldn't eat it.

As Mae called Wilbur in from the yard, Tessy climbed the stairs with a plate that made her mouth water. Even without the chicken, Mae's hand-smashed potatoes, fried okra, and stewed apples were worth fighting for.

"If she won't eat this, she won't eat anything…" Tessy mumbled to herself as she approached Elphaba's door. She pushed open the solid door and found Elphaba on the window seat, looking statuesque in the afternoon light. Her hair was once again tightly knotted, her nightgown grey and dingy, her skin pallid. To Tessy, she could be a corpse already. She crossed the room and set the plate on the seat beside Elphaba. The green woman turned blank and hollow eyes toward her.

"Elphie…" Tessy tried, "You have to eat…"

There was no response. Elphaba wordlessly turned back to gaze out at the silent, waving barley fields.

Tessy dropped her head in defeat and clumped back downstairs. She shook her head sadly as she took her place at the supper table. Mae sighed despondently and bowed her head to pray.

The next several days passed in much the same fashion. Elphaba would do no more than sip water that Tessy left for her, and had resorted to laying on the window seat with a ragged pillow propped under her head. She stared constantly out the window, watching the blazing colors of the sunset and napping frequently. Tessy was afraid that if this continued, Elphaba would wither away and become nothing more than a streak in the western sky.

Bala refused to leave her, nibbling from the food that was left and sleeping curled up in the crook formed by Elphaba's knees. Tessy was sure Elphaba talked to the young animal when they were alone, and Bala seemed strangely able to understand.

"She talks to the cat," Tessy told Mae over morning coffee on the seventh day.

"I know," Mae answered with a sigh, "but she's done that since she arrived. She says she talks to animals. And I'm inclined to believe her, based on the way she can ride Jasper."

Tessy furrowed her brow and considered this, "Still, something has to be done. She can't be more than a few days away from starving herself. She was weak and thin to begin with…"

Mae nodded slowly, "I know, but she's a grown woman. We cannot force her to eat."

"Then we've got to make her want to," Tessy clenched her fists in frustration.

"Nothing's going to make her want to eat. She's beyond convincing. She's not feeling the hunger, the pain. She's not feeling anything, and that's more dangerous than anger or hatred. It's easy to waste away if you truly feel nothing," Mae observed, showing the wisdom gained by her age and her own hardships.

"Then we've got to make her feel…something!" Tessy burst out in frustration. She slammed her first ineffectively on the solid, maple table.

In that same moment, the two women heard a resounding thud from upstairs. They bolted up the steps to the third floor, stumbling over themselves as they pushed through the door into Elphaba's room. She lay on the floor, having fallen from the window seat. Her eyelids fluttered a little, and her breathing was shallow.

Tessy ran to her friend and knelt beside her, "Elphie?" she shook her slightly, "Elphie?"

Elphaba finally opened her eyes, and Mae helped her sit upright as she tried to focus. After a moment, Mae asked, "What happened?"

"She fainted," Tessy answered for her.

Elphaba considered this for a moment before glancing back at the window seat.

"Did you hear me Elphaba?" Tessy voice took on an edge, "You fainted. You're starving yourself to death. If you keep this up, we're going to come up here one day and find you dead on the floor!"

Elphaba's only response was to wrap one arm around her ribs, where she'd obviously aggravated her injury in the fall.

Tessy stood up, fighting back tears of frustration, "So help me, you and I have both been through too much in our lives for you to give up now! I know we haven't known each other that long, but you almost inspired me to want to be something more than who I've become! I left the home I had to be here for you! I _care _about you! You're going to feel something if it kills us both!" she screamed. Then she stormed from the room, leaving Mae holding Elphaba's hand and looking shocked.

Tessy returned several minutes later carrying a large bucket, with her face set in bold determination.

"Get out of the way, Mae," she ordered, though not unkindly.

"Tessy?" Mae started to question, but she saw love beneath the anger on Tessy's face. She stood up and backed away.

Tessy hefted the bucket into both arms and dumped its contents over Elphaba's unmoving form.

The water wasn't cold. The Kansas sun had warmed it to beyond the lukewarm point, but the shock was still evident. Elphaba gasped and sputtered, wiping the hair from her eyes and shaking her hands in disbelief. For the first time in more than a week, she focused clearly on Tessy, her eyes smoldering.

"How could you! You've got absolutely no right—" Elphaba started, her voice sharp.

"I've got every right!" Tessy countered, "Am I supposed to sit here and watch my only friend starve herself to death!"

"That's my choice! It's not yours to make!" Elphaba struggled to her feet, clutching the bed post for support. She was trembling and clearly desperately weak, but anger drove her.

"I don't believe you're in any position to know how to make a decent choice!" Tessy spat back.

"You cannot choose for me!" Elphaba growled, "Go live your life and leave me alone!"

Tessy picked up the bucket again and flung the last drops of water in Elphaba's face, "You think you can't feel? You think you don't care? Well look at yourself now! You're angry! You're angry because I'm taking away your right to choose, or maybe just because you're filthy and soaking wet, but you're still _angry_! You _can_ feel! And what do you think, that you have a corner on suffering? Do you think you're the only person in this world who's ever endured a tragedy? You are not the only person who's ever hurt this badly! Maybe it's time to stop being angry over what the world takes from you, and consider what you might be able to give back!"

Elphaba was still shaking, her eyes blazing, her lips twitching with potential responses, but she remained silent.

Mae stepped forward then, and pulled Elphaba into the nearest chair. She took one slender hand and said, "Child, I know you hurt. I know you hurt so bad you wish you could curl up and die. I know what it means to lose everything that matters to you, we both do," she gave Tessy a meaningful look, "but your life is not over. The good Lord has seen fit to leave you here another day, and you have plenty to give."

Elphaba looked skeptical, but Mae continued.

"You have a lot of life left to live. True, you're not a young girl anymore, but you're young enough to have a family, or start a career. Become a doctor, a farmer, a teacher or whatever else makes you happy. Don't let your tragedy end your life. You have too much to give."

Elphaba swallowed hard, finding it difficult to pull away from Mae's strong, parental nature, "You think he's dead, don't you? You think I should give up. It was ridiculous of me to have new hope that he was alive…" Elphaba choked out.

Mae took a deep breath and considered her response, "None of us can know that, child. But if he is alive, what Elphaba do you want him to find? Would he really want to find the woman he loves throwing away all that she is? You are more than green skin and a haunted past, and there are some wrongs in this world you'll never right. But there is at least one thing out there you can change. There is good you can do, and there are talents you have to share. Start with that, for now."

Elphaba studied the floor for a moment, lost in thought. She dropped her head and, after a moment, they realized she was biting back tears. To Tessy's surprise, Elphaba allowed Mae to wrap her in a tight embrace. Mae stroked her hair, despite the water, and Tessy determined they were more like mother and daughter than either would admit.


	12. Chapter 12: A Time to Mend

**Chapter 12: A Time to Mend**

The following morning, Tessy sat with Elphaba outside in the steadily rising sun. They had spread a quilt in the soft grass just beyond the house, and Tessy was glad to see Elphaba picking at the fried potatoes and fresh fruit Mae had sent out with them. Elphaba was quiet, Tessy noted, but that was not unusual. She had been a woman of few words since they had met. There was a part of Tessy that hoped, someday, to get behind that stoic façade and hear the whole story of the woman beneath, but for now Tessy was content to see her eating.

In the offhand way that Tessy was becoming accustomed to, Elphaba suddenly inquired, "How old were you, when your fiancé was killed?"

Tessy considered for a moment, not offended, but still haunted by the memory, "Nineteen," She finally answered.

"Was your relationship sexual?" Elphaba continued, still staring at the sky.

Tessy was slightly startled, but then her friend's choice of conversation was yet to follow any normal pattern.

"No, I suppose not," Tessy answered softly, "He was a man of strong character, and he knew how I'd been treated in the past. He wanted to marry me first, to show me that his intentions were absolutely honorable," She paused for a moment before continuing, "He was a businessman from Chicago. He wanted to move us there, where the folks would have been more understanding. Here, he was too white to marry a colored woman like me. Even a half-breed…"

Elphaba wordlessly, without even a sideways glance, took Tessy's hand in hers and squeezed it.

Tessy was surprised at the gesture, but grateful just the same. Then she noticed Elphaba still seemed to be stewing over her thoughts.

"If your real question is whether or not I'm a virgin, the answer's no," Tessy willingly confessed, "I've had a short list of lovers over the years, but we went our own ways after a time. I suppose the idea of everlasting love somehow lost its sweetness…"

A long silence followed, as neither spoke.

"Fiyero is the only man I've ever willingly made love to," Elphaba let the words tumble out, as though she wouldn't be able to get them out if she didn't act quickly enough, "He made me feel as though he were making love to all of me, and not just that I had anatomy that served a purpose. He made me feel like a woman, like a person…like more than just a whore," She choked on the words then, unable to elaborate more.

"He was only showing you the truth," Tessy countered, hoping Elphaba might turn and look her in the face.

There was no such luck, as Elphaba simply replied, "Would you think our story was as sweet if I told you he was married? That he had three children?"

"Did he love her?" Tessy asked.

"He didn't choose her," was Elphaba's flat reply.

After a long moment, Tessy offered, "My mother didn't choose her husband either."

Elphaba was quiet for a long time, but she kept her hand in Tessy's as she finished the fruit from the basket in front of her.

"Do you think I should find another lover? A husband perhaps?" Elphaba finally asked.

Tessy considered carefully, "I think you should do what makes you happy, what chases the lonely bitterness out of your heart."

Elphaba turned toward her then, and studied her with those dark, brooding eyes. Tessy could see why Fiyero had loved her. She understood how he must have been spellbound by those dark pools of intelligence and need. It must have taken time, of that Tessy was sure, because her exterior was certainly as hard as desert rock. But behind those eyes, she could see a beautiful soul.

Adrian approached just then, and the moment was shattered. He jogged through the fence gate, and stopped. He was a little out of breath, as though he'd run most of the way.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," he offered in his gentle tone, and Tessy offered a seat on the large blanket.

"Thank you," Adrian replied, and lowered himself awkwardly to the ground.

"Miss Elphaba," Adrian didn't waste time getting to his point, "It's Thursday, and I very much missed seeing you again."

Elphaba started to respond, but he stopped her.

"Please don't dismiss me just yet. I know you've been through a difficult time, and trivial things like my studies are not of much use to you, but I've come to plead with you to consider still coming to Boston with me. I believe my professor could help you tremendously, and he is a man of utmost dignity and respect."

Elphaba studied Adrian, her expression somewhere between anger and curiosity.

Tessy spoke up, "Elphie, I think you should go. I think you would love the trip, and the city. I think you would find up north to be quite an inviting place. The idea of it makes you happy. I can see it in you. So do it. I mean what I said. Do what makes you happy."

Elphaba studied her hands for a moment, and chewed her lip in a thoughtful way. She finally leveled her gaze at Adrian and answered.

"I will consider it. Give me a week to think it over, and I will have an answer for you."

Adrian's face lit up in a smile, "That's all I was hoping for! I leave for Boston on the first of August, which will be a good time because I've been told the Kansas heat can get quite unbearable by then. That gives you over a month to prepare, if you say yes. And I plead with you to say yes," he sprung to his feet, nearly tripping as he started back towards the gate.

"I'll be back next Thursday!" he called out as he began to sprint back towards town on long, gangly legs.

Tessy chuckled a little at his spectacle. She looked after him with a little smile and a bit of a sparkle in her eyes, "He has a good heart," she said, mostly to herself, "He's a good man with a good heart, don't you think?"

Elphaba nodded.

"And you have to admit, he's not bad to look at," Tessy said with a giggle.

Elphaba smiled a little, not sure if Tessy had made the observation for her, or for herself.

That night, Elphaba lay in her bed absentmindedly stroking Bala's patchwork fur. The cat purred happily, and Elphaba lost herself in her thoughts. For a moment, she allowed her mind to wander over her memories of Fiyero. She was trying desperately to move past it, to be satisfied with the few happy memories she had. The ache was still there, though, along with the regret and the anger. So she focused instead on Adrian and his proposition. She had to admit, the idea of Boston appealed to her. Adrian's description of the city made it sound busy and inviting, and full of things that would peak her interest. There was an energy to city life that made her feel more alive. It had a way of getting under her skin. She could feel it pulse through her veins with the surge of the crowds and the marketplace that never seemed to sleep.

Elphaba wanted to go. A tiny part of her hoped the trip might give a measure of purpose to her life. She wanted to believe that Adrian's mysterious professor could offer answers that would at least scratch the surface of explaining her existence. But then, she was also terrified of hoping. The possibility of encountering another scenario similar to what she'd experience in Dallas paralyzed her with fear, fear she would admit only to herself.

She knew she had to do something, though. She had resigned herself to the fact that it was more than time to move on. She had wasted so much of her life being angry over Fiyero's death, and now futilely trying to find him. Clearly, if they were ever to meet again, it was in the hands of fate. Elphaba hated the person she had become because of her tragedy. She had run the gamut of angry, bitter, and desperate. Though she wouldn't admit it aloud, Mae had been right. It was time for something else.

Just thinking it pained her, like a knife through her flesh, but Elphaba was a realist. She would not go back to Dallas and become a groveling, needy, lovesick beggar. Even Fiyero would want more for her than that. Besides, she had found his home, and his family. Certainly, if he was alive, he would return to them, and they would write to her. It was time to be satisfied with that.

She fell asleep with these thoughts rambling through her head. Bala nuzzled her, not understanding, but wanting to offer comfort anyway.

The following morning, Elphaba pulled herself from a heavy sleep to find Bala staring at her from the corner of the large bed.

"What?" she mumbled, pushing a heavy shock of black hair from her face.

_You scared me, tossing in your sleep. Something is wrong…_

Elphaba snorted, "Something is always wrong."

_You won't leave me again?_

Elphaba sat up and sighed, considering. She studied Bala's wide, emerald eyes. She was an animal, yet she was quite astute. She was still, however, far too young to understand most of life's hardships.

"No," Elphaba conceded, "If I travel again, I will take you with me."

Bala seemed contented with this answer and leapt off the bed in search of breakfast.

Elphaba unwillingly drug herself from the bed, gingerly prodding her side to see if her ribs were healing. She was glad to find the ache was considerably less severe. She dressed quickly, choosing a basic frock and knotting her hair tightly, as usual.

Breakfast had become a quiet affair, as Mae still seemed to be giving Elphaba considerable emotional space. It suited her, as she had much to think about. Yet she knew Mae was itching to talk, to express concern, to understand, even.

Elphaba wasn't ready for a heart to heart today, though She was still finding the pieces to her heart. Instead, she made her way to the barn and saddled Jasper, having become quite adept at it herself. The horse snuffled a greeting, and seemed pleased she had chosen to ride again.

_I've been lonely._

Elphaba gave him a crooked smile and rubbed his nose a little. It was nice to be missed.

She mounted easily and spurred Jasper into an easy canter, testing her body's strength. Her ribs complained only mildly, and the sun was already warm on her upturned face. The newly healing scar on the left side of her face was tender in the unrelenting Kansas sun, but then scars were not new to Elphaba.

She rode easily across the flat plains, watching the grains change from barley to wheat to high rows of corn that indicated the border of Mae and Wilbur's property. She was following the wide, dirt rode that ran towards town when something caught her eye. Elphaba slowed Jasper to a slow walk, and followed the split-rail fence that ran along the front of Myra Spinnaker's property. A flash of crimson caught her eye, and Elphaba squinted into the brilliant sunshine to see Myra mount a protesting stallion. The rich, cinnamon-colored Arabian bucked and twitched as the older woman struggled to grasp the reigns. Suddenly, the horse bolted and thundered across the field. Elphaba sucked in a breath as the stallion approached. He stopped short upon seeing Jasper and reared back, flailing his powerful legs.

Elphaba froze as Myra lost her grip on the reigns. The powerful stallion tossed his head and Myra flew from the horse, landing in the scrubby grass with an ominous thud.

Elphaba dismounted quickly, acting on impulse. It was, in spite of all that had been said of her, in her nature to help whenever she could.

"Stay here," she ordered Jasper kindly, and he watched her scale the fence and approach the agitated horse. Elphaba moved slowly, trying to look the animal in the eyes as he continued to buck and neigh. She glanced over at Myra, noting that the woman was at least breathing. That would have to do, for now. She turned back to the horse.

"My name is Elphaba, and I am not going to hurt you," she spoke softly.

_Stay away from me. I don't trust you._

Elphaba looked toward Jasper, and then back at the beautiful stallion.

"Why don't you trust me?"

The animal blinked a few times and stopped bucking. He pawed the ground and seemed thoughtful.

_Are you talking to me?_

Elphaba cocked her head, "It's a gift of mine. Turns out that being green is not all that makes me unusual."

_One of you humans shot me, and I still have a scar…_

Elphaba considered for a moment, "I'm no stranger to scars," she offered.

The horse snuffled a little and trotted in a small circle.

_Why should I trust you?_

"Because I am not the person who shot you, just like you are not the same Animal who enslaved and tortured me."

Neither spoke for several moments. The horse was still at last, and Elphaba approached slowly and stroked his silken flank.

_I don't like the saddle._

Elphaba checked the buckles and straps, and finally loosened and removed the saddle entirely. She stroked the animal's powerful body, smoothing his coat and admiring the rich, rust color.

"Will you let me ride?" Elphaba asked.

The stallion snuffled again and looked toward Jasper for a moment. Something passed between them that even Elphaba could not decipher, and the great stallion stooped slightly. She grasped the reigns and swung her long legs over the animal's bare back. Before he could move, she asked, "What is your name?"

_Nikola. Why do you ask?_

"Out of respect."

With that, the stallion took off at brisk canter across the flat yard. Elphaba clutched the reigns and moved her body with the rhythm of the horse. Without the saddle, she could feel his movements, and melded her body into the animal's as he moved into a gallop. They circled the yard once and returned to where Jasper stood at the fence. Elphaba found Myra staring up at her, conscious once again. She dismounted easily and approached the older woman.

"You rode my horse…" Myra nearly whispered, more in awe than anger.

Elphaba offered a hand and asked, "Can you stand?"

Myra grimaced, "I don't think I'll be wantin' any help from no witch."

Elphaba knelt down and looked her straight in the eyes, "I can either help you inside, or you can lay in the yard for a few days until someone realizes you're here," then she added for emphasis, "And I don't believe I've ever heard of a witch who stops to help someone who spit on her."

Myra studied Elphaba for a moment, her hard expression faltering slightly. For a moment, Elphaba thought her eyes were more sad than angry. She finally pursed her lips into a thin line and clasped the green woman's hand.

It was a struggle to get Myra to her feet. She had most certainly broken a bone in her leg, and bruising was already apparent on her arms. It wasn't more than fifty yards to the house, but it seemed to take an eternity. Elphaba nearly carried Myra up the front steps and gingerly helped her inside. Fortunately, there was a wide sofa in the sitting room and Elphaba was able to lay Myra down and prop up her injured leg.

She set to work without asking, searching for bandages and boiling water to cleanse the wounds. All of her work in life sciences came into play as Elphaba cleaned and dressed Myra's leg and set the bone to heal correctly. Having spent years sewing wings onto the backs of monkeys, Elphaba's hands were adept at probing the muscles and bones beneath the skin. She carefully tested Myra's leg and searched for any other injury.

Myra was silent, perhaps out of fatigue or delusion or shock that the woman she'd threatened to burn was keeping her from becoming an invalid.

After some time, the older woman finally spoke, "Ain't you afraid the horses will wander off?"

"They won't," Elphaba answered, "they trust me, and they understand."

Myra considered this, "How do I know you ain't makin' things worse with all your doctorin'?"

Elphaba's glance was quick but firm, "I've have extensively studied anatomy, surgery and medicine. If I can make monkeys fly, surely I can set your broken leg."

Myra was silent then, satisfied and somewhat in awe.

"So you's was a doctor? Back wherever you came from?" she finally asked.

"We call it life sciences, but I suppose you could say that," Elphaba answered. She decided not to mention that her training had been done alone, in a secluded corner of the castle Kiamo Ko. She also left out that much of her time had also been spent studying sorcery. Elphaba finished what she could, and then rinsed her hands in the washbasin before turning to leave.

"I'll see what I can find for the pain and be back in a few hours," Elphaba offered flatly, mostly out of duty.

"How do I know you's not poisonin' me?" Myra shot back, though her tone had lost some of its bite.

"I suppose you'll have to trust me."

Myra considered for a moment, and then tossed out, "You know, there's at least a couple others in town who would consider ressurectin' the tradition of witch burnin' if one was to be identified."

Elphaba stopped at the door and turned back, "Well, I suppose you'll at least have to wait until your leg is healed. If you still think I'm a witch, you can burn me then. You might, in fact, be doing me a favor."

Myra's lips twitched a little, and Elphaba wasn't sure if it was in anger, surprise, or laughter. She left then, after leading Nikola to fresh pasture. Jasper's step was light on the way home, as though he might have found a friend in the beautiful, troubled stallion.

Elphaba was in the kitchen nearly an hour later, rummaging through Mae's spice cabinet, when Mae returned from tending a cow that'd just birthed a calf.

As she washed her hands, Elphaba questioned her, "Do you have any poppy seed? Or perhaps turmeric or willow bark?"

Mae cocked her head in curiosity and began to rummage through the shelves and cupboards. She produced a small tin of turmeric from the back of a cupboard, and added, "There are poppies in the flower garden west of the house. They like the sun. And I have to ask, what are you concocting?"

Elphaba took the tin and studied it in her hands for a minute. Finally, she answered, "Myra Spinnaker was thrown from her horse, and I happened to be passing her home. She's hurt her leg badly, and I promised to return with something for pain," there was a pregnant pause, "I couldn't very well leave her laying in the yard…"

Mae studied her, looking into her eyes until Elphaba glanced away.

"I knew it. I knew there was a good heart within you," Mae surmised with a hint of a proud smile.

Elphaba snorted, but a tiny bubble of something warm rose within her and almost made her smile, "I'd better go," was all she said.

"I'll go with you," Mae offered, "Even laid up, Myra Spinnaker's likely to try to tie you to a tree, or worse."

Elphaba didn't imagine Myra had a fighting chance of that in her current condition, but she let Mae come anyway. Lately, she found that company was much more satisfying than it had once been.

They took a few fresh poppies from the garden, and Elphaba set to preparing medicines when they arrived. Using what she found in Myra's kitchen, she crushed and boiled and worked with agile fingers until she was satisfied. Mae watched her, quite in awe of her skill.

Myra swallowed the concoctions with a raised brow, but was soon in a blissful state of painless unawareness, thanks to the opiate and analgesic properties of the plants.

On the walk back home, Mae questioned, "Where did you learn such skill with plants?"

"It was my main course of study at the university," Elphaba answered bluntly, "but most of it, I learned on my own."

"University?" Mae looked stunned, "That's something very few women from these parts will ever experience. Some never even get to secondary school."

Elphaba turned, shocked, "Why?" was all she could think to ask.

"We live in a great country," Mae sighed, "but it's been a country run by men for more than a hundred years. I suppose some folks are just now realizing that a woman can be as intelligent as a man…"

Elphaba looked thoughtful, "In Oz, the leadership is so preoccupied with suppressing the Animals that the education of women has remained fairly strong."

"Animals?" Mae looked shocked.

"It's another world," Elphaba explained softly, "a very, very different world."

After a long pause, Mae asked, "What do you intend to do with old Myra?"

Elphaba cocked her head, "I suppose I'll see to her needs until she's well enough to burn me."

Mae laughed in spite of herself.

They were silent for the rest of the trip, and Mae hurried to check on the newborn calf when they reached the house. She returned after a few minutes, looking troubled.

"Elphaba!" she called from the yard.

Elphaba went, and followed her into the barn.

"She's been lethargic all day," Mae explained, showing her the ailing mother cow, "It was a long birth, and I don't think she's recovering…"

Elphaba could hear the fear in Mae's voice, so she went to the animal. With gentle hands, she stroked her speckled coat and asked, "What ails you?"

_Nausea. Pain, too much pain after a birth. Too much blood…_

Elphaba's mind raced, and she forced herself to recall years of pouring over anatomy books. Finally, something occurred to her. She turned to Mae and ordered, "Get me some ether, some alcohol, a clean knife, and your best sewing supplies. Quickly."

Mae's eyes widened and she ran from the barn. She returned a short time later with a large basket full of supplies.

Elphaba wasted no time. With soothing words, she rendered the large animal unconscious and rolled her onto her side. She cleaned the cow's abdomen and made a crude incision with the tools she had to work with. It took her just a few minutes to remove the uterus, which was enlarged and filled with blood. She then painstakingly tied off the blood vessels and made sure there was no more bleeding. Elphaba stitched the animal carefully back together, hoping too much time had not already passed.

Mae looked at her questioningly when she had finished.

"She was bleeding to death," Elphaba explained, "How many calves has she birthed?"

"Twelve," Mae answered.

"Her uterus ruptured slightly, and was not contracting. It was worn out, and couldn't shrink down and stop bleeding. See the tear, here?" Elphaba showed her, "It happens sometimes…"

"What now?" Mae asked softly.

"She'll sleep for a while on the ether, and then hopefully wake up. If she wakes, she'll live out her life as a decent milking cow."

Able to do nothing more, they gathered their supplies and trudged wearily back to the house. They moved slowly, realizing how long of a day it had turned out to be, and they'd not even made it to dinner.

"Thank you," Mae offered softly, and Elphaba simply nodded.

They sat down to dinner a little later than usual that evening, and Tessy burst through the door just as Mae was placing the biscuits on the table.

"I'm sorry I'm late! I suppose I lost track of time," she explained.

It wasn't until after they prayed and served their plates that Elphaba realized she had no idea where Tessy had spent her entire day. I wasn't in her nature to be nosy, but it also wasn't like Tessy to disappear.

"I splinted a broken leg and performed surgery on a cow today. What did you do?" Elphaba directed her question at Tessy.

Tessy cracked a half smile, "It never ceases to amaze me, the bizarre ways that you start conversation…"

Elphaba simply stared, still curious.

Tessy gave in, "If you must know, I met Adrian at the library. I was never fortunate enough to learn to read, and he offered to help me. I'd say we did pretty good for one day."

Elphaba was slightly shocked, not sure what it would be like to live as a grown woman without being able to read or write.

"I know, it's hard for most white folks to believe. And in this case, green folks. Thirty years old and can't read. It's sad. But I intend to rectify that," there was pride in Tessy's voice.

"Good for you!" Mae offered, "I hope it goes well."

"I think it will," Tessy continued, "although Adrian is intimidating. He's just my age, but he has a doctorate in Theoretical Physics. It's amazing to listen to him. He's remarkably intelligent."

Elphaba nodded in agreement, and then finally added, "I'm glad you're learning. You deserve that much."

They all cleared the dishes together that night, except for Wilbur, who had spent too long in the sun trying to a clear jam from his plow. He retired to his room, and left the women to talk.

Elphaba was surprisingly chatty, for herself, that evening. She explained the cow's surgery in complete sentences to Tessy, as opposed to her usual one-word answers. Tessy listened attentively, amazed that her friend had managed to do something so complicated.

Suddenly, mid-story, Mae burst out, "Elphaba! Do you see? Child, you have found your gift!"

Elphaba quirked her eyebrow upward and did not look excited.

"The animals, Elphaba! Do you not see what a great difference you could make for the farmers? You're skilled at treating injury, and at anatomy. You know what the animals need. You can hear them in a way that no one else can! You can do something no one else in this town can do!"

Elphaba set down the bowl she was drying and thought it over while studying her hands. The idea of it filled her with a rush of purpose and anticipation. Then, she remembered how the townsfolk had rejected her. She remembered the menacing crowd in front of the library. Having spent her life being shunned and feared, she was truly afraid of offering help to strangers. Still, the idea of being needed, of having a talent, ignited a spark within her that she found it hard to snuff out.

"I will consider it," she finally conceded to Mae and Tessy's expectant stares.

"I suppose that's enough for today," Mae smiled.

When they'd finished the dishes, Mae noticed Elphaba carefully scrubbing her hands in the washbasin, her sleeves still stained from her day of playing physician.

"Elphaba," she offered, "Would you like to have the privilege of the bathtub tonight?"

Elphaba's head snapped up as though she'd been offered poisoned cider, "What?" was all she could say.

"The bathtub," Mae repeated, "We don't use it often, due to how long it takes to boil the water, but I think you've earned it."

"I..I don't know…I've never…I mean I suppose now it wouldn't…" Elphaba stumbled over her words, having never approached a bathtub in her thirty-seven years.

"Do you have baths where you come from?" Mae looked incredulous.

"No…" was the only thing Elphaba could think to say.

"Well then!" Mae strode off with a purpose.

Some time later, Elphaba was left alone in the downstairs washroom with the full bathtub. Mae had filled it with steaming water and added a little lavender, which Elphaba was quite fond of.

She checked the lock on the door and then slipped out of her clothes. She then stood there, naked in the flickering lamplight, and stared at the water. It was her arch nemesis, her greatest enemy, a threat to her very life. And yet now it looked so appealing. Elphaba gingerly dipped her hand in the tub, and the water caressed it. The scent of lavender wafted up, and she closed her eyes. After a moment, she took a deep breath and pushed away her now-irrational fear. She dipped her legs in the water, and then slowly lowered herself into the large tub.

She was in her own personal heaven. For Elphaba, this moment was everything she could never have in the life she had always known. She was not burnt, she was not in pain. She felt utterly calm, altogether clean, and perhaps even at peace. The sensation of being enveloped by the water was reminiscent of the first time Fiyero had wrapped his body around hers, encircling her in a cacophony of new sensations. Her eyes snapped open at the memory, and a familiar pain struck her heart. Yet she pushed it away, determined to enjoy her first bath. Elphaba didn't want to cry tonight.


	13. Chapter 13: A Time to Speak

**Chapter 13: A Time to Speak**

For the next few days, Elphaba went to see Myra each morning. She brought a basket of home cooked food and a fresh supply of herbs to treat her ailments. Myra remained a woman of few words, thanking Elphaba only when necessary and watching her work with hawk-like eyes. Elphaba had offered to wash her hair, as it had become quite a flyaway mess after several days. However, Myra refused, and settled for tying her ash gray locks into a haphazard braid that ran down her back.

She wasn't nearly as old as Elphaba had once thought. Upon seeing her up close, the lines on her face were still faint, and her eyes were still a bright, steel gray. It was, perhaps, the grimace she always wore that made her appear to be an elderly woman. Elphaba guessed she was no older than Mae, perhaps younger. Yet her house was devoid of any memento or photo that indicated there had ever been a husband or children. Not usually one to traffic in gossip, Elphaba still found herself curious. She questioned Mae at dinner, "Do you know Myra Spinnaker's story?"

Mae paused with her fork in the air and considered the question. She looked troubled, and finally answered, "Unfortunately, I do. I believe our whole town does, which is most likely why they tolerate her beastly behavior."

"Will you tell me?" Elphaba inquired.

Mae thought for a moment, "After dinner. It's not what I would call supper conversation."

Satisfied, Elphaba finished her dinner and helped Mae clean the dishes. She joined her on the porch afterward, both of them with glasses of iced tea. It was new to Elphaba, taking tea with ice, but she rather liked it.

Mae rocked slowly in one of the wooden chairs and stared into the horizon, as though she were gathering her thoughts, or her courage. Elphaba waited, comfortable in silence, until Mae began the story.

"Thirty five years ago, this country went through a bitter war. It was fought mostly in the east, which is where Myra came from. She was living in northeast Georgia with her family then, and was only a young wife. She and her husband had three small children," Mae took a deep breath before she continued, "One of the greatest war campaigns was launched right through where she lived, and she and her family fell victim to soldiers burning their way through Georgia to the Atlantic ocean. They were told not to kill civilians, but war doesn't necessarily bring out the best in men. A group of soldiers burned her house to the ground while she slept, with her family inside. Only Myra escaped. The soldiers also stripped her farm of all the crops and supplies, and did Lord-knows-what to Myra. So she fled west, half-crazy and grief-stricken. She's lived alone since then, isolated in her bitterness."

"Does any of that explain her obsession with burning me to death?" Elphaba asked quietly.

Mae considered, "Myra has trouble with authority, and she likes to take the law in her own hands. She doesn't have much respect for any appointed authority, considering what those in authority did to her…"

Mae's words struck a chord, and Elphaba was silent for a long time. She thought back to her years at Kiamo Ko, and the anger she'd felt towards every authority in Oz. She had trusted no one. She understood how Myra felt in a painfully poignant way. Elphaba knew what it was like to feel that no one meant to help, and everyone meant to harm. She knew what it was like to discover that the people you trusted and looked up to were both corrupt, and sometimes utterly evil. Then Elphaba considered Mae, who had also lost so much.

"What kept you from bitterness?" Elphaba asked, "Surely you have reason to be angry…"

Mae studied the sky again for a moment. The sun was behind the house now and twilight was approaching, with its velvety blues and grays. A few stars sprang to life, trying to claim the day and make it night. Mae sipped her tea and finally answered.

"My faith, I suppose. I see this world, this life, as so very temporary. It's fleeting really, the few years we have here. And the world is full of all kinds of unhappiness. We all have our portion. I try my best to live and love in a way that creates happiness, for me and others. After all, there is a time for everything in this life, or so the Bible says…"

Elphaba considered this, and then asked, "The Bible?"

Mae looked dumbfounded. "You don't know what a Bible is?"

"I suppose not, and I have read extensively," Elphaba answered.

Mae went inside for a moment, returning shortly with a fat, well-worn book. She flipped through the pages, finally finding what she was searching for. She handed the book to Elphaba, who read the passage carefully.

_There is a time for everything,  
and a season for every activity under heaven:  
a time to be born and a time to die,  
a time to plant and a time to uproot,  
a time to kill and a time to heal,  
a time to tear down and a time to build,  
a time to weep and a time to laugh,  
a time to mourn and a time to dance,  
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,  
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,  
a time to search and a time to give up,  
a time to keep and a time to throw away,  
a time to tear and a time to mend,  
a time to be silent and a time to speak,  
a time to love and a time to hate,  
a time for war and a time for peace._

"Who authored this?" Elphaba asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Physically? A man who lived thousands of years ago. Spiritually? Well….God," Mae answered, puzzled that Elphaba had no knowledge of the Bible.

"The Unnamed God?" Elphaba asked.

"Well…yes and no. God has many names, but He is most commonly just addressed as…God."

Elphaba mulled this over. She imagined this was not the same god her Unionist father had preached about, but then, perhaps they were just different manifestations of the same idea. It perplexed her, as religion usually did, yet the passage was intriguing. It suggested there was a purposeful time for all things, including her real and justified anger, her deep, enduring hurts, and the promise of peace. Elphaba's thoughts ran deep, as she considered the idea that without the pain, she wouldn't know pleasure. Without the tears, she wouldn't know the comfort of having them wiped away.

Elphaba looked toward the darkening sky and finally said, "It's time for rain…" she mused, nodding towards the rolling clouds that moved in with the night.

"I'd better get the chickens in," Mae said, mostly to herself, and she hurried to the task.

Elphaba laid the book in Mae's chair and descended the porch steps. She stood in the yard until the first drops of rain began to pelt her, enjoying the warm, wetness that stirred up the fresh earth. She let a few drops run down her face before she turned to go inside. She picked up Mae's Bible again and silently added her own passage.

_A time to be burned, and a time for rain…_

With a half-smile, she took the book and sat in front of the fire, where she read curiously for some time.

Elphaba decided to go to Boston. She told an eager-looking Adrian that Thursday when they met each other on the road into town. He had been on his way to Mae and Wilbur's, as he had promised, and she had decided to start toward the library herself. Clearly excited, Adrian walked her into town, chatting the whole way about the trip and what they could expect.

Elphaba only half listened, as her reasons for agreeing to go with him were more selfish than she would like to admit. She hadn't told anyone, but the idea of working with animals, treating and helping them, excited her. So in her typically eager and impatient way, she wanted to visit the library and pour over whatever books she could find that dealt with life sciences. Elphaba knew her knowledge, though extensive, was disorganized and incomplete. She wanted to hone her skill in this world, to do more than simply guess at the right method or treatment. This led, partially, to her decision to travel to Boston, because she felt such a place would have a vast library. Moreover, she would have the resource of a renowned professor at her disposal. She would certainly learn much that would be of use.

Adrian stopped talking abruptly when they approached the library. He obviously very clearly remembered their last visit here. Elphaba swallowed hard and ascended the stairs with stoic confidence. When they pushed through the doors, they found Kate in her usual place at the desk near the door. Her eyes widened, and she looked both Elphaba and Adrian over very thoroughly. She touched her arm, where Elphaba had cut her a few weeks prior, and seemed tormented. Finally, she simply looked down at her work, and pretended not to notice as the two visitors made their way upstairs to the research section. Elphaba said a silent thank you, hoping that perhaps one day soon Kate's trepidation would fade enough for Elphaba to thank her properly.

Elphaba wasted no time finding the books on anatomy and medicine. Adrian helped her locate them under the subject of Biology, which seemed to be the parallel of Life Sciences. They spent several hours pouring over books, each lost in their own subject of choice. When enough time had passed that Elphaba determined Mae would be wondering about her welfare, Adrian walked her downstairs and used his privileges to check out the books Elphaba had found most useful. Kate looked the other way when she carried them out the door.

Elphaba nearly ran into Tessy as they emerged into the bright afternoon sun. Her eyes lit up when she saw Adrian following Elphaba down the stairs.

"Here, let me help," Tessy offered, taking several of the books, "If you're going home with all of this, you should take my horse. I'll walk home later."

Elphaba considered for a moment, and then easily agreed, not relishing the idea of walking several miles with an armload of books. Tessy helped her pack the books into a bag slung over the horse's back. Before she mounted, Elphaba suddenly thought to ask, "What brings you to the library?"

"Adrian," Tessy replied, and then quickly added, "He's helping me again today, with reading. I've apparently still got a long way to go," Tessy cracked a tiny smile.

Elphaba allowed herself a smile in return, and mounted the horse. She rode home swiftly, finding Tessy's Quarter Horse to be steady and consistent. Once home, she briefly nodded at Mae before climbing the stairs to spend the afternoon pouring over her books.

Elphaba was startled out of her studying by the sound of the door slamming several hours later. She blinked a few times, and realized the sun was sinking low in the sky. The sound of the door could only mean that Tessy was home. Elphaba let her book fall shut and stretched her stiff muscles before making her way downstairs. Her mind was flooded with facts, figures and diagrams that she struggled to commit to memory.

She helped set the table in silence, and then picked her way through dinner as the others chatted about the day. At one point, Mae said her name several times before she was drawn out of her reverie.

"Elphaba? You seem preoccupied, even for you," Mae gave her an endearing smile, "What has captured your attention?"

Elphaba twirled a fork in her mashed potatoes, considering her answer, "I've decided to go to Boston with Adrian," she began, noting the smile that spread across Tessy's face, "I'd like to meet this professor, perhaps see if he can make any sense of me. And," she hesitated, "I'd like to explore the idea of working with the animals further. It does sound very much like…me," the statement sounded strange to Elphaba, since she had so rarely labeled herself as anything good.

Mae considered her words carefully before responding, "It's so nice to finally see you acknowledging the greatness within you. And I know it's scary, trying to reinvent yourself, but the journey will be worth it, I promise."

Elphaba smiled a little and went back to her food, but inside, a feeling of warmth filled her once again.

Another week passed, and Elphaba found herself making her customary trip to Myra Spinnaker's. She was pleased to find the woman sitting up with a book from the shelf a few feet away. That meant she had at least been able to stand and limp, on her own, to the shelf. Elphaba set about wordlessly, making hot tea and some warm grains with fruit. By trial and error, she'd been able to figure out what Myra's preferences were. She wasn't a woman to offer much information willingly, but Elphaba understood that better than almost anyone.

She was startled when Myra called to her across the sitting room, her tone a little less harsh than was normal, "Since you seemed so determined to come over here, you might as well be of use and tend to my horses as well. That red Arabian is a spitfire, and I haven't been able to mind him myself. I'd pay you fairly. I believe an honest day's work deserves honest pay."

Elphaba stopped abruptly, nearly dropping the cup she was washing. She cleared her throat, trying to remain nonchalant, and crossed the room to adjust Myra's pillows. The older woman looked up at her, and beneath the hard, steel-colored eyes, Elphaba could see a hint of pleading, and a hint of fear. In spite of herself, Myra had seen a gift in Elphaba. She saw the value of the person beneath the green exterior, and perhaps no longer wanted to burn her to death. At least that's what Elphaba hoped for, as opposed to this being a cruel trick to lure her into another disaster.

She considered the proposal for a long time, waiting until just before leaving before answering, "I will be in Boston for a month in August," she threw out.

"I suppose that could be accommodated," Myra answered.

"Then I'll be here tomorrow, and I'll see to the horses. We can discuss a fair payment then," Elphaba agreed, with a twinge of fear and a spark of hope.

Myra nodded.

Elphaba returned home to her books then, to lose herself in the comfort of dusty pages and the scent of cracked leather.

And so their routine continued for the next few weeks, with Elphaba treading delicately on the bridge of peace Myra had extended toward her. She tended the horses each morning, and then helped Myra as she began to recover more quickly. At night, she traded stories with Tessy at dinner, who was quickly becoming literate with the help of Adrian.

Mae often shook her head at them, not understanding most of what Elphaba studied, or the strange, scientific journals that Adrian used as reading material for Tessy. Yet she smiled like an aging mother, watching her children spread their wings for the first time. Tessy and Elphaba were unlikely sisters, and yet for Mae, they filled her heart with happiness again.

One evening, when they'd all been in bed for some time, Elphaba was startled out of almost-sleep by Tessy. She had shuffled from her room down the hall and pushed open the door to Elphaba's room. Without asking, she pulled back the quilt and crawled into the large bed. She was still for a moment, before finding Elphaba's hand and squeezing it tightly. Elphaba was very still for some time, having not shared a bed with anyone in a very long time.

"Boston is only a week away," Tessy said softly, almost making the comment a question.

"I know," Elphaba whispered, her voice tense with uncertainty.

"Are you afraid?" Tessy dared to ask.

"Why would I be?" Elphaba asked.

"Because of what happened…in Dallas," Tessy choked out, clearly worried herself.

"Would you think I was a coward if I were?" Elphaba asked more softly.

"No," Tessy answered quickly, "I'm afraid for you myself."

"Then let's talk of something else," Elphaba evaded.

There was a pause, as Tessy thought. Finally, she said, "Adrian is a good teacher. By the time you return, I'll be reading those big, heavy books you spend so much time poring over."

"You should be proud of yourself," Elphaba complimented.

"Of course, we've wondered, Adrian and I, what we'll do once I've learned to read. It would be strange, not seeing him every day…" Tessy trailed off, as though she'd lost herself in a private thought.

Elphaba caught a hint of something in Tessy's voice, and considered how many weeks she and Adrian had been meeting nearly every day. In her typically direct way, Elphaba asked, "Do you love him?"

Tessy tensed and did not answer for a moment, and Elphaba thought she might decide to leave rather than the answer the question.

Finally, Tessy offered, "I told you, I gave up on the idea of true, romantic love. It's a nice idea, and I don't carry the burden of a hateful grudge. I've just moved on. The time for romance in my life has passed. I'm looking for something else to fill my life. And I'll find it, in time…" Tessy trailed off, her voice soft and contemplative.

Elphaba could understand that, and took Tessy at her word. She squeezed the other woman's hand, and, despite her earlier misgivings about sharing her bed, fell asleep to the sound of Tessy's even breathing.


	14. Chapter 14: A Time to Love

**Chapter 14: A Time to Love**

Mae and Wilbur insisted on taking Elphaba and Adrian to the train station in the horse cart on the first of August. True to her word, Elphaba had Bala with her in a wire cage, with a little quilt and pillow Mae had sewn for her. The kitten was wary, but soothed by Elphaba's voice. Tessy rode along, chattering with Adrian about the sights and the weather in Boston.

For the first time, Elphaba noticed the changes in Tessy since they'd first met. Her cloud of corkscrew curls was full in the summer heat, her brown eyes sparkling just a little. Her skin had darkened a shade to just the color of milk chocolate. She looked…happy.

Elphaba was glad Tessy had stayed in Amber Plains, even if her own personal tragedy had been the reason for the decision. Learning to read had done wonders for her, and for a moment, Elphaba considered asking her to come along on the trip as well. She kept quiet, however. It was Adrian's place to invite guests, not Elphaba's.

As they approached the train station, Elphaba pulled on her gloves and pulled her hat down low over face. Tessy gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, and Wilbur navigated the cart into the bustling station. With the help of Mae, Adrian was able to buy their tickets and hustle Elphaba onto the train without raising any questions as to her color. By posing as a newly married couple, they were able to secure a double sleeper compartment. Though a bit awkward, their accommodations were much nicer than their trip to Dallas, and Elphaba could hide away in the compartment and remain mostly inconspicuous. She waved to Mae, Wilbur and Tessy from the one, small window as the train lurched out of the station and heaved its way northeastward.

They had a week of travel to endure before reaching Boston. Elphaba was mostly silent, watching the landscape out the tiny window and burying herself in her books. She had brought more books than clothing, which had made Adrian chuckle.

"Priorities," she had said, "Priorities."

Adrian brought her meals into the compartment, sparing her the awkwardness of having to endure the stares that would surely greet her in the dining car. As they traveled, Elphaba found herself talking more. The confinement afforded little else to do, besides read.

Adrian was well-educated, that much was obvious, but he also had a streak of wisdom that was unusual for his age. Nearly seven years Elphaba's junior, he had spent most of his thirty years in school, studying the way the universe works. Yet he had an easy nature that one would expect to find in someone far more socialized. Also considering that this was not Adrian's home country, Elphaba was impressed.

"So what country do you call home?" Elphaba asked one evening.

"Germany," Adrian answered easily.

"And where is that?"

"Across the ocean, which is about a week by ship from Boston."

Elphaba considered this, "This world seems so much larger than Oz, but then, perhaps if I'd ever been able to venture beyond the desert…" she trailed off, considering what she really knew of Oz.

"Tell me about it," Adrian asked eagerly, "I never imagined I'd have the opportunity to hear about an entirely different world…"

Elphaba smirked a little, but indulged him. She found that it was nice, to describe the lush greenery of Rush Margins, the grit and bustle of the City of Emeralds, and even the harsh peaks of the Vinkus. She found that the place itself was in her blood, coursing through her and defining who she was. It seemed less haunted, less evil, when she simply described the place, and not the events of her life.

"So what of Germany?" she finally asked him in return.

Adrian considered, "It can be beautiful, with lush countryside and cities built centuries ago. The southern border includes the Alpine Mountains, which are harsh and soft at the same time. It's a beautiful contradiction. Probably the closest thing to the place you call the Vinkus I can imagine…"

Elphaba detected a note of sadness or strain in Adrian's voice. She wanted to know more, in spite of herself, "So you've come here just to study, and then return home?"

Adrian looked distant for a moment, "Mostly, yes. It's a great privilege, to study under the Professor…but I must also admit, I don't know if I'll be returning to Germany. Our nation, and those surrounding it, are in troubled times. There is much political conflict, and sometimes it seems as though we're on the verge of war…" he trailed off, lost in his troubled thoughts.

Elphaba sat with him in silence, understanding with great clarity the reality of war. Conflict crossed the boundaries of universes, they both realized. Hatred was birthed on every plane of existence. But then, so was love. It was heartbreaking and comforting at the same time.

"So how did you come under the instruction of this Professor?" Elphaba slightly changed the subject.

"He wrote me as I was finishing my doctoral work in physics, and asked me specifically to study underneath him. He knew my parents briefly when I was a boy, and I think he recognized something ominous in the direction our country is taking…"

Elphaba considered this, "And where does he work?"

"Harvard College. It's the oldest school in the country, and has some of the greatest minds in the world on staff. I am amazed every day by the discoveries that are made within its walls. This is a great country, where men are free to pursue not only happiness, but knowledge in its purest form."

Elphaba nodded, and then added, "If only that applied to women, and those whose color is different than yours. That would be true freedom…"

Adrian nodded in agreement, and then left in search of iced tea for both of them.

The rest of the trip followed much the same pattern, and Elphaba found herself quite surprised at how quickly the time passed. By the time they arrived, she had worked her way through several books, and the anatomy of several animals was beginning to blur together in her mind. She welcomed the break that disembarking the train provided. Adrian gathered up their baggage, and they struggled into the station together. Elphaba had her hat pulled low over her face, but she quickly realized that almost no one was interested in the two of them as they made their way through the station to the street. She also noticed that Boston was considerably more colorful than Amber Plains, or even Dallas. Snatches of conversation in several different languages wafted past her ears, and she felt a twinge of hope. Already, her spirits lifted, as the energy of the city worked its way through her.

Adrian flagged down a carriage, and the driver quickly loaded their baggage. He looked startled as he caught a glimpse of Elphaba's face, but he said nothing. Within minutes, they were on their way to a hotel.

Elphaba's breath caught as Adrian led her from the carriage and into a soaring hotel in the heart of Boston. The lobby was well decorated and filled with ladies and gentlemen dressed in fine clothes, on their way to important affairs. For a moment, Elphaba thought of Glinda, floating through society in her frothy gowns, her porcelain skin rosy and well-powdered.

_Glinda would like it, _she thought, _Glinda would drag me to a suite and rave about the towels and pieces of furniture with names I can't pronounce…_

Elphaba smiled at the memory. Lost in her reverie, she realized Adrian was calling her name. She followed him up the staircase to the fourth floor, where he swung open the door to a well furnished room.

"Welcome to the Lenox," Adrian said, with an attempt at wealthy arrogance.

Elphaba gave him a smirk and dropped her heavy satchel of books. The room was quite nice, with heavy, toile curtains and an intricate, cherry wood wardrobe. There was also a genuine bathroom, which was unheard of in the plains of Kansas. Water ran from the faucets, which left even Elphaba in awe. There was also just one large, cherry wood bed.

Adrian cleared his throat as he realized why Elphaba had hesitated.

"I could only afford the one room, and we're posing as newlyweds, after all…I would be happy to sleep on the floor, or even in the bathtub. I'm afraid I gave up my regular residence when I left for Kansas…"

Elphaba shook off the awkwardness and tried to smile, "I've certainly spent the night in far worse conditions. I trust your integrity, but I am also not a dainty flower. We can alternate. You take the bed tonight," she offered.

"Very well," Adrian agreed, knowing he would not win an argument with her.

After unpacking their things, Adrian brought up a modest meal of teacakes and fruit from the hotel restaurant, along with freshly brewed tea. Elphaba was grateful. After making sure Bala had fresh water, she fell asleep quickly in the oversized chair by the window, with the promise of tomorrow's meeting with the Professor flitting through her dreams.

Harvard College was expansive, with exquisite, detailed architecture and well-manicured lawns. Elphaba was impressed, and she was glad she had chosen to wear the new dress Mae had painstakingly sewn for her. It was reminiscent of the dress Nyalana had helped her patch and restore in her days in the City of Emeralds. It resembled the dress she had worn the first time she and Fiyero had made love. She had cherished that dress, after seeing the way his smoldering eyes looked at her, knowing how much he'd wanted her. Now, she felt beautiful, powerful, and complete as a woman in this dress, and she needed that confidence today. Her hair was knotted as usual, her hat wide-brimmed and pulled low over her brow. Yet she strode with confidence, following Adrian through the wide hallways and beautiful, wooden arches of Harvard College to the office of his well-respected professor.

They stopped in front of a mammoth desk that was dark, well-made, and hand-carved. Standing behind it was an older man, with a shock of graying hair and an unkempt mustache. His suit was well tailored, if slightly disheveled, and he was studying a large chalkboard covered in numbers and symbols.

"Professor?" Adrian interrupted him.

The older man turned and his face lit up in a smile, "Adrian! It's wonderful to have you home! And who is this young woman--" the Professor stopped, taking in the person who stood before him. He was momentarily startled, but his expression quickly became curious.

"I know you'd like for me to have come home with a fiancé, but I'm afraid Miss Elphaba will have to do. She's the one I wrote you about," Adrian explained.

The Professor raised a hand to his chin and looked her over, his eyes becoming more excited by the moment. Elphaba reached up and removed her hat, almost challenging the Professor to react to her. If he was going to run in fear or disgust, she'd rather get it over with quickly.

Instead, her studied her face, and then reached out for her hand, "May I?" he asked politely.

Elphaba nodded, and he studied her hand carefully, turning it over in disbelief as he took in the coloring.

"You, my dear, are absolutely stunning. And you are everything Adrian said you were," the Professor concluded.

Elphaba snorted in embarrassment, "_Stunning_ is not a word I've ever been called before."

"Well, it's fitting," the Professor replied matter of factly, "Now, tell me about yourself," he seated himself in front of his desk and offered her and Adrian the two chairs in front of him.

Elphaba was quiet for a moment, finding the question daunting. Explaining herself was difficult, far more difficult than learning the anatomy of a horse or even getting along with Myra Spinnaker.

"I was born in Rush Margins, in the land of Oz, thirty-seven years ago. I was the Thropp Third Descending, eventually to be the Eminent Thropp, but I gave up the title. It's a historic title of nobility without much political backing. I'm not even sure it's continued now that I'm gone…" she paused to consider, "I was born this color, green as sin from the moment I took a breath. I think it nearly drove my mother to insanity…

I completed some university and worked for some years in the City of Emeralds. I spent most of my adult years in the mountains of the Vinkus, working on my skills in Life Sciences with animals, or Animals as we call them. My life did not contain much of great merit, at least until now. I've always been more of an oddity than a person of intrigue…" she stopped, not willing to divulge her participation in the Resistance or the birth of her son. It still stung, to not remember birthing her child. She also could not bring herself to broach the subject of Fiyero with just these men. This trip was part of moving on, and she also did not trust herself to speak about him.

"You mentioned your father once, or someone you though might be your birth father…?" Adrian turned the statement into a question.

Elphaba swallowed hard, remembering the nauseating feeling of watching the Clock of the Time Dragon call the Wizard her father.

"Someone once suggested," she choked out, "that the man we call the Wizard might be my father. He was rarely seen, and he drug Oz into Civil war. He also took away the rights of the entire Animal population. He appeared rather suddenly when he took power, and many people speculated that he was…not of our world," her tone was harsh as she spat out his story.

"None of us chooses our parents," Adrian offered, trying to sound reassuring.

The Professor was rifling through his desk, mumbling to himself. He emerged after a moment with a thick document. He returned to his seat and handed it to Elphaba.

"It's not easy reading, but I'd like you to look this over. You strike me as intelligent. More intelligent than most."

Elphaba flipped through it, and the Professor continued.

"There are just a few theoretical physicists in the world right now. It's a new and controversial field, and some call us crazy. We want to explain the world, the universe even. The way I see it, if Galileo looked to the stars and saw the potential for the universe, what's to stop us from looking beyond the universe to see the potential for more? They laughed at Galileo, too.

In my readings, I've stumbled across a common thread that works its way backward through history. It's shown up in the writings of scientists and philosophers, and even intelligent observers. It seems that, throughout history, there have been individuals who seemed to simply appear in society, to barely fit in and sometimes disappear unexpectedly. People who seem to have no history, or have huge gaps in their life here. A Latin philosopher called the phenomenon _Tempus Viator._"

The Professor paused, and Elphaba's head spun a little.

"A handful of physicists are trying to explain with science what we've observed for thousands of years. Beyond this universe, there appear to be many, many more. Existing in dimensions we cannot experience, there are other worlds beyond this one, and every now and then, someone is able to jump that gap. Someone who is a child of both worlds."

Elphaba swallowed hard over both fear and excitement. For the first time in her life, someone was making sense. Someone had given a name to her existence.

_Tempus Viator._

It sounded like something worth being, like something powerful, strong, and purposeful.

"And you think I could be one of these people?" Elphaba barely whispered.

The Professor considered her, "How did you find yourself here?" he asked.

Elphaba looked away, "I was…in a moment of great distress in my world…I could have died…and, since our world includes sorcery, I could occasionally summon great waves of power. I must have…willed myself here, but it's obviously a skill I did not know I possessed…"

They were all silent for a moment, each lost in thought at all the possibilities before them. Finally, the Professor broke the silence.

"Would you be willing to submit to some testing? I guarantee it would be conducted with the utmost respect, supervised by myself. I would just be interested to see your genetic makeup, as compared to others. Genetics is a relatively new field, and I think they would be interested."

Elphaba considered, yet she found herself too intrigued to say no. She had, after all, come here for answers.

"I expect to be treated like an equal, like a person with the right to refuse any of this. I'll disappear if that promise is broken," she demanded, her eyes locked with the Professor's.

He nodded, and Elphaba could not detect any dishonesty in him.

"So this is your work? Studying the unusual, like me?" Elphaba had to ask.

The Professor grinned, "Unfortunately, no. My work is to tell folks how to build buildings that won't fall down and railcars that can go faster without derailing. There's science behind all of that, as well. They don't pay me to think about theoretical physics, but working here affords me the opportunity to work with other great minds who enjoy thinking as well. This field of study is controversial, laughable even for some people. Someone once said to me that being a theoretical physicist is like being a composer of music on a planet that has no sound. We use what we know to guess at what might be. At least, until someone like you walks into my office."

Elphaba nodded, both overwhelmed and excited, "May I take this?" she asked, holding out the thick stack of papers.

"Certainly," the Professor agreed.

Adrian chatted with the Professor for a few moments longer, agreeing to return the following morning with Elphaba. They shook hands, and Adrian led her out of the office for the day. Halfway outside, she turned to Adrian suddenly.

"I didn't even think to ask," she blurted, "What is his name, other than the Professor?"

Adrian smiled and answered, "Friedrick. Thomas Friedrick. He came from Germany as well, many years ago."

Elphaba lost herself in her thoughts as they made their way back to the hotel. The meeting has lasted through lunch, and they found they were both quite hungry. Adrian needed to retrieve some money, however, before they went in search of a proper meal. They climbed the stairs to their room, and Adrian retrieved what he needed from the small safe where they'd locked their few valuables. Afterward, he found Elphaba by the large window, staring out at the sunbathed city.

She held her cat in her arms, stroking its colorful fur. Her hair had pulled lose from its knot under its own weight, and for once looked soft and feminine. Her features were sharp and quite emerald in the afternoon sun, yet she was beautiful, in her own way. For the first time, he noticed the dress she wore, which was black, with hints of burgundy in the lacework. There was a bit of a train on the full, gored skirt. She was quite exquisite, Adrian realized, a lady in any world, and for a fleeting moment, he saw her differently. She was more than his discovery, more than the words _Tempus Viator._ She was a woman.

Elphaba turned and broke the spell.

"I think I might be close to starving," she threw out with a smirk and dropped the cat softly on the bed.

Adrian shook his head and followed her.

The following day was a whirlwind, with Elphaba meeting several of the Professor's colleagues and submitting herself to far more blood-drawing and skin sampling than she would have liked. She regarded each person carefully, ready to bolt at any sign that they simply wanted to make her front-page news. She could not tolerate that. She would not endure being a freakish sideshow for the citizens of Boston. Yet she was a woman of science herself, and was every bit as intelligent as Professor Friedrick had implied. She wanted answers, in spite of herself.

So the week passed, with meetings and lengthy discussions, some lasting into the wee hours of the night in the Professor's office. It was reminiscent of her time at the University, where she'd been surrounded by culture, people, and knowledge. Elphaba was in her element, and it brought out the best in her. She let her hair get softer, since knotting it seemed less important. She glowed with anticipation and possibilities. Her eyes were brighter, her bitterness falling away a bit. She looked something like the young girl she'd once been, and Adrian was glad, feeling somewhat responsible for her happiness.

_It's worth all the work, if I helped her,_ he thought to himself as they sipped tea in a shadowy corner of a café near their hotel more than a week hence.

"Do you think," Elphaba asked suddenly, "That someone like me could take someone else with me when I…jumped worlds? Am I strong enough to send someone else between worlds?"

Adrian considered, "I wouldn't say no. I think that's something only you could answer."

Elphaba chewed her lip, looking troubled and thoughtful. She had a way of doing that, he had realized, of suddenly becoming stormy and quiet.

Adrian took a chance, "Are you thinking of him? Of your Fiyero, who you went looking for?"

Elphaba's head shot up, "Don't ever mention him! You can't and you mustn't, do you understand?"

"I'm sorry," Adrian complied.

Elphaba lost some of her fight, "I'm sorry…it's just…you couldn't understand…"

Adrian reached out and took her hand, because compassion came quite naturally to him.

She pulled away, not harshly, but pointedly, "Adrian, don't," her eyes were hard when she looked at him, "I'm not some fair young thing that you can comfort and care for. I've seen evil and atrocity; I've been used and scarred. I'm not a young woman. In fact, I'm barely a woman sometimes. So…don't…"

Adrian smiled and took her hand anyway, "I know who you are, at least who you are now, and I'm not young enough to think I can charm you. I'm far from naïve, Elphaba. I'm not trying to make you my wife. I'm your friend, and I can assume you've had very few true friends. I respect you, and I do care. There is no pretense. You don't have to be afraid of the fact that I care."

Elphaba studied him, taking in his slightly unruly, dark hair and his deep, brown eyes that always looked sincere. His hand was firm around hers, but did not seem to be asking for anything more. She felt a twinge inside of her, and then a flood of warmth. He could not understand what his transparent honesty meant to her. He was a man of true character, and she did not know how to answer. Unexpectedly, tears pricked her eyes, and she turned and fiercely wiped them away.

Adrian pretended not to notice.

Several days later, they sat in the Professor's office as he studied the information provided to him by his colleagues.

Another professor, Professor Whitmore, stood with him, talking animatedly, "It's like nothing I've ever seen! Even with our limited methods and the fact that this research in its infancy, this is unusual…"

Elphaba cleared her throat and raised an eyebrow. She did not like to be talked about when she was in the room.

"I'm sorry," Professor Whitmore addressed her, "Your number and type of chromosomes are entirely different than anything we've encountered in human research. This is a very new field, and no one is quite certain yet as to the actual number and function of chromosomes, but yours are clearly beyond what we've seen as human…"

"And what does that mean?" Elphaba was both curious and a little afraid.

"Either that you are not human, or not human as we know it. And, as a footnote, you probably could not reproduce…" Professor Whitmore trailed off.

"Well, I certainly don't have any plans to reproduce anything," Elphaba snapped, flushing a little.

"I'm sorry," Professor Whitmore's tone softened, "I get caught up in the science, and I forget the personal. My apologies."

Elphaba nodded, and lost herself in thought. The professors and Adrian continued to chatter excitedly about what they had found, but she allowed their voices to fade. She had a lot of answers, maybe more answers than she'd hoped to find. She was clearly of another world, and she was clearly powerful enough to transcend the barrier between the two. So she must have been a child of the great and terrible Wizard. It sickened her, but in perspective, it meant she was his equal. She was more powerful than she'd known. As Professor Friedrick has described, her water allergy could have been a manifestation of her unusual genetic makeup. She was not made wholly for one world or the other, so there were bound to be inconsistencies. Yet she had also managed to produce a child, something she was ready to admit, no matter how fascinating the professors might find it. Liir was enigma she could only attribute to a phrase she'd heard Professor Whitmore use repeatedly, _Life finds a way._

Elphaba was quiet the rest of the day, lost in her thoughts as she tried to sort her answers into a logical explanation of her life. She could certainly do things that no one else could. She had possibly even sent Fiyero here in a moment of emotion, grief, and energy. The power of it all scared her a little. It also broke her heart, to know she might have saved his life only to have him die in a filthy prison in this world.

Elphaba considered what she could offer this world. She could be very powerful, using her sorcery to control, manipulate, and impose fear, as the Wizard had done. Or she could create something good. She had already found one skill, in listening to the animals, that was unique to her here. She could create a purpose from her own chaos and make a difference for those who had no voice.

She was up well into the night considering it, and Adrian had trouble waking her the following morning.

Over the next few days, Adrian let his professors stew over their research, and he took Elphaba on a tour of Boston. He started with the sprawling college campus, showing her the laboratories, libraries, and dormitories for some of the smartest people in the nation. Elphaba tingled with excitement as she poured over the volumes of leather-bound books in the extensive library. Seeing that alone as worth her trip.

With her hat pulled low, he took her to the best restaurants they could afford. He let her sample food from his native Germany, as well as Italy, Austria, Ireland, and even the Far East. They walked through sprawling parks filled with wealthy ladies and gentlemen, and even made their way into the poverty-stricken quarters where Elphaba found great joy in passing out food, blankets, and even some of her own clothing to the poor.

Adrian was continually impressed by the generosity beneath her hard exterior, at the heart that beat beneath all her grief and emotional baggage.

At the end of the week, they returned to their hotel one afternoon, exhausted after a day of trekking through the city. Adrian half-carried Elphaba, because she had given her shoes to a young girl in the grip of prostitution and poverty.

"Perhaps there's a thing as too much generosity," he tossed out, only half-serious, once they'd reached their room. Adrian watched her discard her stockings and rub her feet. Illogically, he was shocked that they were as green as her hands.

"You don't know what it's like," she snapped, "to be hungry and cold and…used," Elphaba looked away quickly, realizing what she'd revealed.

Adrian stood very still for a moment, also realizing the implications of what she'd said. He was surprised, at the strength of his anger. He knew her life had been hard, but it hurt to think of her like the girl they'd seen, cold, dingy, and stripped of her humanity. It seemed such a contradiction to who she was now. Then, Adrian was again surprised, at how much he wanted her to know that she was far more than that.

He sat next to her on the bed, and Elphaba continued to rub her feet, not looking at him, "I'm sorry…you should be able to give your shoes to anyone you see fit. I didn't know…" he couldn't finish.

"You shouldn't!" Elphaba barked, "You couldn't…it's not important. It's the past. Just forget it. We should sleep…"

Adrian wasn't ready to let it go, "I would never have known, because you're so strong, so determined, and so full of compassion. Whatever your scars, you haven't given in to bitterness. You have so much goodness in you…you have so much to offer…"

Elphaba scoffed, "If only you'd known me just before I found myself here…"

"Whatever you almost were isn't what you are now…" Adrian added. He had taken her hand again, yet Elphaba didn't notice for several moments.

They had become comfortable with each other during their stay, moving fluidly around each other as they shared their small space. Elphaba had become at ease with him, which surprised her, but it was nice. Adrian was considerate and kind, and he genuinely cared. She could see that kindness in his eyes now. He had a good heart, as Tessy had said.

The clock ticked, the air shifted, and Elphaba was suddenly overcome by her loneliness. In spite of all the people around her, she kept herself sealed off in an emotional cocoon. She'd wasted so much time searching for a lover who was most likely long dead, and in front of her was the offer of the most basic of human needs. Touch. A child who is not touched will die of loneliness. It will cry in torment from the lack of human contact. In the moment, Elphaba felt the strength of that need. Against her own will, she needed to be touched.

Adrian saw it in her and his heart constricted. For a fleeting moment, he wondered, did he love her? He didn't stop to answer the question. He raised a hand to her face and brushed her hair back, and then he kissed her.

Elphaba let him, turning off logic, and letting herself feel. There were no fireworks, no great earth-moving sensation or rush of love as she'd felt for Fiyero, yet she could not stop. She needed to be touched and she trusted Adrian. Her search for Fiyero had only ended in more suffering and she simply needed to be held.

She let him kiss her, let him run his long fingers through her hair and lay her back against the pillows. He hesitated, when she started to undo the buttons on her dress.

"Elphaba…if you don't want…"

She stopped him, pulling him back before she changed her mind, "Don't talk. I've spent years talking and thinking, and very few of them…doing. Please…I've been so lonely…"

Adrian's heart broke for her, and he kissed her again. He told himself he did love her, in a way, and he helped her with the tiny buttons.

It was a shock, the feeling of his skin against hers, and Elphaba had him blow out the lamp before she let her dress fall to the floor. The scars and the harsh tone of her skin, things she still wasn't ready to completely reveal, would be lost in the shadows.

Adrian was gentle, as was his nature, and Elphaba found that her body responded. He kissed her softly and held her, taking the time to touch and appreciate her. Elphaba closed her eyes and lost herself in the sensation. She let herself enjoy being caressed by another person. She felt a twinge of guilt, knowing it was more the touch itself than Adrian that she craved, but she pushed it away.

Elphaba clutched him as they moved together, drawing him into a rhythm that worked her body towards the height of pleasure. She felt selfish, knowing she was more concerned with taking than giving in the moment, but he'd offered himself and she was in need. She let the waves of sensation overwhelm her as she surrendered to climax. She bit her lip and heard Adrian whimper a little as his body gave in as well. They collapsed together, perspiring from the effort, and Elphaba turned away. She pulled the quilt over herself and squeezed Adrian's hand, to let him know she was not angry.

She drifted into sleep and woke sometime later, to find him watching her with concern and compassion in his eyes. Elphaba pulled him to her again, taking him hungrily this time. She was trying desperately to fill a vast, aching emptiness and to heal a heartbreak from which she'd never recovered. Adrian moved with her through the wee hours, perhaps a bit intimidated by the depth of her need.

Yet when the sun broke over the horizon to signal the dawn, Elphaba was still empty. She shivered a little under the quilt and stared out the window at the sleeping city. She finally forced herself from the bed and pulled on her clothes. Then she sat in the one chair and absentmindedly stroked Bala as she considered what she had done.

Sometime later, she heard Adrian whisper, "Do you want me to go?"

Elphaba turned to find him sitting up in the bed, his hair a mess. She did not answer.

"You look as though you're terribly unhappy…" Adrian's tone was melancholy.

Elphaba look in his eyes, "No…I'm just…I feel as though I've used you…and I never imagined that I would…" she couldn't finish.

Adrian pulled on his trousers and came to sit across from her.

"A willing participant cannot be used," he began, "Do you love me?" he finally asked.

Elphaba looked away, studying the brightening sky.

"Yes," she finally answered, "You've shown me that I can love someone, but I don't love you in the right way. I love who you are, but I don't love you the same way that…" her voice caught, not wanting to hurt him.

"It's okay," Adrian's eyes were soft, "I understand…I feel a little selfish myself. You seemed so lonely, and you seemed to need…"

Elphaba stopped him, "Thank you…for making me feel again…" she couldn't meet his eyes.

"Is there hope for our friendship?" Adrian finally asked.

"Let's get back to Kansas, then…perhaps…" Elphaba answered.

The ride home two days later was very quiet, with Elphaba buried in her books. They both had much to consider, as so many lessons had been learned. It had been a good trip, mostly. However, they were both grateful to see the platform in Amber Plains come into view, as well as the familiar faces of Mae, Wilbur, and Tessy.

They disembarked and gathered their luggage, which Wilbur loaded onto the cart. Mae hugged each of them, and kissed Elphaba on the cheek. Elphaba didn't flinch quite as much as usual. She turned to Adrian instinctively, and watched as Tessy ran to greet him.

Tessy embraced him, holding on just a little longer than was necessary. She took his hand as she asked about Boston, her eyes sparkling as she leaned in a little closer than she needed to. She was clearly quite smitten with him. Adrian's absence had obviously brought out Tessy's true feelings, in spite of herself, and perhaps without her knowledge.

Elphaba felt a sudden stab in her gut. An awful realization took hold when she heard Tessy's bubbling laughter as Adrian told her about the train ride. Elphaba sat down in the cart, suddenly nauseous. She realized she had a problem, a very big problem.


	15. Chapter 15: A Time to Hate

**Chapter 15: A Time for Hate**

Elphaba made an attempt to allow things to return to normal over the next several days. She visited Myra the day after her return, and found that the older woman was doing much better. She could now limp on her injured leg, and most of her bruising was gone. Thinking she'd reached the end of her usefulness, Elphaba was surprised when Myra asked that she continue to come and tend her animals. Myra also faithfully paid her a small sum each week, without a word or even a smile. It was a strange relationship, yet Elphaba was content to let it be for the moment. Just knowing the woman didn't want to burn her alive anymore was enough for now.

Elphaba's greater concern was Tessy. Adrian had not visited since they'd returned, and he could not be found at the library. Tessy already seemed crestfallen, as she had obviously been greatly anticipating his return. Elphaba found herself distracted from her studying as she agonized over what she should do. Part of her could not imagine confessing to Tessy what had happened in Boston. It was too personal, too weak and needy sounding. To admit that she'd given in to her own lust or need for attention seemed so pathetic.

_You're only human,_ she tried to rationalize.

Elphaba fought with her conscience, spending equal time defending her actions and berating herself. She had spent so many years trying to be more, or less, than human. She had almost forgotten she had needs until she found herself in this new, strange, and beautiful place. It had reawakened something in her she'd thought was long dead. Until now, it had been a welcome change, to be a little needy. Now, though, she regretted having acted on that neediness.

Elphaba let the book she'd been reading fall shut. Her mind was running in the same circles it had been for nearly four days. Mae knocked on her doorjamb then, asking permission to enter Elphaba's room. Elphaba nodded, trying to clean up the mess of books and papers she'd spread on the bed.

"You've been home several days," Mae began, "and there's not been one word about Boston. Did you find what you were looking for, or at least have a good time?"

As usual, Mae appeared to know that something was wrong, but she would not push. Elphaba had learned that about her.

"I found a lot of things I was looking for, and some things that caught me by surprise," Elphaba answered vaguely.

"Did this professor answer your questions?" Mae continued.

"Yes, and then no…" Elphaba considered whether to elaborate. She took a chance, "He and Adrian think I'm from another world…they're quite convincing…"

Mae was thoughtful for a moment, "Does that explain your coloring? Your special abilities?"

"I suppose it does. They think there could be others like me, or somewhat like me. It means I'm more than just a glitch in the cosmos…I'm the result of a logical event. I do fit…just in a different way…"

"And that doesn't satisfy you like you thought it would?" Mae picked up on what Elphaba couldn't find the words to say.

Elphaba was silent, afraid to say yes.

Mae finally continued, "Perhaps you've come all this way to realize that it's not where we come from, or why we're born that's important. It's what we do that matters, who we help or hurt. The most unique of us can go through this life and leave no mark whatsoever, but the most mundane person can make an irrevocable change in the world. Why you're here does not define who you are, who you are defines why you're here."

With that, Mae left her to her books, and Elphaba could not shake off what she had said.

As she lay awake at night, Elphaba realized what it was that troubled her the most. All the answers she'd been seeking, the explanations that she thought would justify her life, did not fill her with any great joy. The most significant event from her trip to Boston was realizing just how human she was, how her needs, no matter how fiercely she denied them, were like everyone else's. Mae's words only helped solidify the idea that more answers were not what she needed. In her youthful naiveté, she'd imagined herself as a tool, something used by the universe for an outcome unknown to her.

For the first time, she wanted to decide her own destiny. She feared losing Tessy's and Adrian's friendship more than living a lifetime not knowing who or what she was. She knew, deep down, that her confession would have to come. She would not lose this opportunity, as she had with Sarima, to confess her actions and deal with the consequences. Elphaba wanted to grab hold of her own life, and live it. If the outcome was bad, at least she'd know it was not because she'd done nothing.

Oddly enough, even Myra noticed something was off in Elphaba's demeanor. On her next visit, she stopped Elphaba as she brushed Nikola.

"Ain't never seen you so despondent…" Myra left the statement open-ended.

Elphaba stopped brushing and stared at Myra for a moment. She seemed sincere enough, "I'm afraid I may have hurt someone I care about," Elphaba kept her eyes on the ground.

"Ya don't seem capable of hurtin' nothin'…" Myra snorted.

Elphaba looked up and studied the other woman's sharp, gray eyes. They had lost some of the hatred since Elphaba had first met her, "I'm glad you've finally come to think that," Elphaba answered.

Neither of them spoke for a long moment, and Elphaba stroked Nikola's coat to inspect her work.

Finally, Myra said in a struggling voice, "Ya know…it's good for the soul, to try to make it right…when ya know you've wronged someone…"

Elphaba turned to look at her again, and wondered if Myra's words were meant as a confession as well as advice. She thought she caught a flicker of a smile on the older woman's face before she walked briskly away.

Elphaba swallowed hard, knowing she would have to talk with Tessy. And she was afraid.

The following day was sunny, and Elphaba and Tessy had spent it plucking baskets of fresh produce from Mae's garden. The air had been warm, but with a hint of the coming fall. They'd cast off their shoes, and their toes were dirty from trekking through the soft earth. They'd snuck a few ripe tomatoes and ate them while they worked, savoring the sweet, rich ripeness of the fruit.

By evening, they found themselves exhausted and a bit sticky, sipping tea in the rocking chairs on the front porch while Mae prepared dinner. They were silent for some time, mostly content.

"It's beautiful, no matter how many times I see it," Tessy gestured toward the steadily setting sun.

Elphaba considered for a moment, "In Oz, they called me the Wicked Witch of the West. I'm not sure that it was such a bad title. I would gladly claim the west, if I thought I could…"

Tessy smirked a little, "Wicked Witch?" she raised an eyebrow.

"It's a terribly long and uninteresting story," Elphaba tossed out, refusing to elaborate.

There was a long, comfortable silence before Tessy softly said, "It's been nearly a week, and Adrian has not called…"

Elphaba suddenly felt her throat constrict and her stomach twist. She, too, had noticed his sudden absence. She knew that he was giving her space, and that Tessy could not possibly understand.

"He surely had much to do, with all his research he needed to compile," Elphaba tried to make a plausible excuse.

"Most likely," Tessy softly agreed, "It's silly of me, to think he would miss me. That our friendship is in any way significant to him…"

The twinge became a sharp pain in Elphaba's stomach, "Tessy," her voice was strained, "I know I've asked this before, but…do you love him?"

She saw her friend stiffen, clearly unprepared for such a direct question, "I can't say that," Tessy finally answered, "I'm old enough now to know that love is not as easy as we'd like it to be. But I missed him terribly. He makes me happy…"

Elphaba swallowed hard over what felt like sand in her throat. She twisted her hands together, as was her way when she was worried, or afraid. Part of her wanted to keep quiet, to let what happened in Boston become the past. She could surely find a way to remain friends with Adrian, once the awkwardness between them passed. What had happened between them had no bearing on Tessy's feelings. Yet Elphaba knew that Tessy deserved to pursue Adrian in the light of complete honesty. She deserved to have all the facts. She deserved to know that Adrian's behavior right now had nothing to do with her, or anything she had done. Elphaba sighed, wondering if she was destined always to be the Other Woman.

Tessy added, "Perhaps I behaved too forwardly, like a silly school girl…"

Elphaba took a shaking breath and said, "Tessy, there's something you should know…"

"What?" Tessy asked, still studying the sky.

"I need you to look at me," Elphaba asked softly.

Tessy turned abruptly, her brow furrowed in concern. She knew it must be something significant. Elphaba never wanted to be stared at, because she knew her eyes often gave away too much. Tessy was very still, as she studied her friend.

"Tessy, something happened in Boston…"

Tessy's eyes were full of concern, "Did he hurt you?" she whispered, "I would never have thought him capable of—"

"No," Elphaba cut her off, her guilt raging at the compassion her friend was showing, "Tessy…Adrian and I…we were…intimate…"

Tessy still looked confused.

Elphaba took one more breath, "I slept with Adrian in Boston."

Tessy took a sudden breath, as though she'd been slapped. Her eyes widened and a myriad of emotions crossed her face. She looked hurt, betrayed, and terribly sad. Yet she tried to show mercy.

"Do you love him?" Tessy asked in a shaking voice.

After a moment, Elphaba forced herself to answer, "No."

Tessy's eyes were suddenly stormy. She stood and paced along the porch and Elphaba felt compelled to continue.

"No, I don't love him the way you do. I love him for who he is, for being a faithful friend, for being a man of impeccable character. He's a wonderful person, Tessy, but…I just…needed to be touched…and I didn't know…"

There was no sound for several moments. Elphaba felt naked and ashamed, and terribly vulnerable. It made her want to claw at her skin, because she hated to feel this way.

Finally, Tessy asked in a low voice, "Does he love you?"

"No," Elphaba stood to face her friend, "I think he felt sorry for me…" Elphaba struggled to explain herself, her words clamoring over themselves, "Tessy, it was no great affair. It was just before we came home, and it was only once…" she stopped, knowing that was not the whole truth, "Well…more than once, but it was only one night…" Elphaba could tell immediately that that confession did not help.

Tessy stopped pacing and gripped the porch railing until her knuckles whitened. She finally turned towards Elphaba with dark, wounded eyes.

"You….whore," she choked out, her voice guttural and harsh.

_Whore._

The word hung there in the air, heavy and full of hatred, until Elphaba started to feel as though she might suffocate.

"You filthy whore!" Tessy was clearly fighting back tears, "You used him out of your own selfishness, and you knew! You knew how I felt!"

"Tessy, I didn't—" Elphaba's tried to argue.

Tessy turned and fled, slamming the door behind her so hard the house shook.

Elphaba realized she was shaking. Her heart pounded in her ears, and with every beat she could hear that word.

_Whore._

The sordid life she'd been forced to live for more than a year.

_Whore._

The title she'd fought so hard to leave behind.

_Whore._

The scarlet letter Fiyero had stripped from her when he'd held her and loved her in spite of it all.

A flicker of movement caught her eye, and Elphaba realized that Mae was standing in the doorway, her eyes full of concern.

"Elphaba?" she asked, extending a hand.

Elphaba ran, too ashamed to look Mae in the eyes. She ran past the summer gardens and into the fields of tall, ripe wheat and corn. She ran until they became barley and the house was tiny on the horizon, and then she collapsed. Tears pricked her eyes and she let them fall. She cried until she was empty and raw inside, and the sky had become dark above her. And then she lay there, staring at the swirling stars until dinner was long past.

She hated herself for her weakness, for her neediness that had now caused so much suffering. Her pitiful loneliness had now surely cost her two friends. She felt disgusting and bitterly ashamed.

"I am the aberration," she whispered to herself, conjuring up words she had not used in years.

It seemed so true in light of the past month. Even now, knowing something of where she came from, she could not seem to make things right. Her destiny seemed to be to hurt and destroy. No matter how hard she tried to grab hold of her life and make it different, those she allowed herself to love were wounded because of her. The thought of it made her ache.

When the ground finally grew cold and damp, Elphaba stood and made her way aimlessly through the fields. On a whim, she turned in the direction of Myra's house and found herself knocking softly on the door in the darkness.

Myra opened the door, clearly startled. She stood in her nightdress, a lamp in her hand, and took in the woman who stood before her. Something in Elphaba's eyes made her open the door wider and wordlessly allow her to come inside. Myra made a pot of tea and lit a fire, all without saying a word. Finally, she sat down at the small table with the tea and said, "You look a fright…"

Elphaba sat carefully and sipped her tea, grateful. She couldn't seem to get any words of explanation out. After a few minutes, Myra went to the cupboard and returned with a half-empty bottle of whiskey. She poured a little in each of their cups quite matter-of-factly. Elphaba took another sip and found it to be neither too strong nor particularly good. It did, however, warm and calm her. Finally, some words poured from her.

"I've caused a lot of grief and suffering…I've been bitter and angry and vengeful…but I've been hurt terribly…I've suffered more than anyone could know…I've lost everything more than once…it would seem that would do something to absolve my sins and give me some measure of peace…"

Myra considered, looking troubled. Finally, she answered, "Bitterness can certainly leave a person lonely…but I suppose we all make choices we regret…and we can't make anyone forgive us…" Myra met Elphaba's eyes, and there was understanding.

They finished the tea in silence, and Elphaba fell asleep on the sofa, resting heavily from fatigue and the whiskey. She didn't wake until the sun was already high in the sky the next morning, and Myra wordlessly made sure Elphaba ate before she trekked back toward Mae and Wilbur's house.

Mae wrapped Elphaba in a fierce hug when she shuffled through the door, having clearly had a troubled night.

"I was so worried…" Mae whispered.

"I'm very sorry," Elphaba said tightly, starting toward the stairs.

Tessy descended just then, and Elphaba saw her eyes darken when she caught sight of her. Tessy brushed past them wordlessly, and the air between her and Elphaba nearly crackled. She continued out the door and was gone, leaving Mae and Elphaba in silence.

Elphaba started to go after her, but stopped on the porch, having lost her courage. Apologies and healing relationships did not come naturally to her. She sat down in one of the chairs and stared at the road where Tessy had gone. At some point, Mae sat down beside her.

"I heard what Tessy said yesterday," Mae spoke softly, "and I know how that must have hurt…"

Elphaba scoffed, "You can't know. Even I couldn't explain it to you."

"Why?"

Elphaba was taken aback, because she hadn't expected the question. Normally, just her hateful tone would turn someone off.

When Elphaba didn't answer the question, Mae left and returned after a moment with her Bible. She flipped for a few moments, and then stopped. She began to read out loud, "Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing…the tongue has the power of life and death…" she flipped the pages again and then read softly.

"When we put bits into the mouths of horses to make them obey us, we can turn the whole animal. Or take ships as an example. Although they are so large and are driven by strong winds, they are steered by a very small rudder wherever the pilot wants to go. Likewise the tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts. Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark. The tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole person, sets the whole course of his life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell. All kinds of animals, birds, reptiles and creatures of the sea are being tamed and have been tamed by man, but no man can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison. With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in God's likeness. Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers, this should not be."

Mae was silent then, with the book open in her lap. Some time passed before she finally spoke again, "We are capable of destroying a person with one word. Nothing is as damaging as a hateful word. And _whore_ is a terrible word."

Elphaba felt tears prick her eyes, because Mae was right. She turned away, not wanting to cry again. Finally, she asked, "What if the words hurt because they're true?"

"Truth is relative," Mae answered, "And none of us has the right to throw another's mistakes in her face. Not one of us is perfect."

Something flared up in Elphaba, and she let forth a torrent of words, "I was a mistress, Mae. I'm not some young girl on the cusp of life. I willingly loved a married man. And before that, I was just an object for the pleasure of men. I'm old enough now to understand what happened. I can use the word _rape_ because I understand what was done to me. But I also know I stayed in that house out of fear. I feared the cold and the people and being left out in the rain. It was easier to be a whore than to risk running away! And now, I slept with Adrian out of my own selfish neediness. And his kindness and compassion, the very things Tessy loves about him, made him vulnerable to…me! I've been fighting the title of _Whore_ my whole life. No one has ever loved me legitimately. I'm the Other Woman, the Mistress, the Handmaiden…I'm the aberration…"

Mae studied her, sensing Elphaba would not respond to being fussed over. It broke her heart, to hear of such suffering, but she kept her distance.

"Words are powerful, Elphaba. I think Tessy will learn a hard lesson in that when she comes around from this. And it is my understanding that you didn't know about her feelings when all this happened…" Mae finally added.

Elphaba was silent for a moment, considering. Finally, she spoke, "I suppose that's true..."

"That's good to hear you say, because I also don't think she meant what she said," Mae added.

Elphaba was still exasperated, "That still doesn't tell me what to do! I hurt her, badly! I can't change that."

"Give her time. Sometimes that's all you can do, and," May continued, "perhaps one of you should talk to Adrian. He seems to be in the dark about all this."

Elphaba turned away, not ready to face him.

The next five days passed slowly, with Elphaba mostly shut in her room avoiding the awkwardness that permeated the atmosphere every time Tessy crossed her path. She could sense that Tessy was still very angry, and had begun to wonder if they would live forever in this horrible state. On the morning of the sixth day, Elphaba descended the stairs to find Tessy talking with Mae. She moved quickly, hoping simply to take some fruit and return to her room without incident.

Tessy turned just as Elphaba reached the kitchen and snapped, "You should know I'll be returning to White Springs right after the fall harvest. I made a promise to Mae to help, but I see no reason to stay beyond that," her words were pure acid.

Elphaba froze, unable to speak. She wanted to argue, but begging was not something she knew how to do.

"Tessy…" Mae started, but Tessy disappeared up the stairs in a blur of anger.

Elphaba felt deflated, and almost didn't hear the soft knock at the door. Mae laid a hand on her arm before going to answer the door. When Elphaba looked up, Adrian stood in the living room.

Elphaba bristled and started towards the stairs, "I'll get Tessy for you," she said thinly.

"No," Adrian looked confused, "I want to talk to you."

No one spoke for a long time, and Mae slipped quietly out the door. Finally, Elphaba gestured towards the sofa. Adrian sat, and she perched on the chair opposite him.

"I understand that Tessy is quite angry with us," Adrian started softly.

Elphaba simply nodded.

"I saw her in town yesterday and she would barely speak to me," Adrian continued, "I usually consider myself to be fairly astute, but I am only a man. Is there a reason why Tessy is so angry?"

Elphaba finally met his eyes, and found they were as kind as always, "She loves you," she finally answered.

Adrian looked slightly taken aback, and sat in stunned silence for a moment, considering.

"You didn't know?" Elphaba finally asked.

"I suppose now that I look back it should have been obvious…did you?" Adrian asked.

"No!" Elphaba shouted, then realized how upset she sounded, "No…she even denied it, although I suppose the signs were there…I've never been very good at evaluating social cues…I simply took her word…"

Understanding why Elphaba was so defensive, Adrian said, "You didn't mean to hurt her…"

Elphaba cut him off, "She called me a whore."

Adrian looked horrified.

"Which I suppose I deserved," Elphaba plowed on without stopping, "considering the way I used you for my own selfishness."

"Elphaba," Adrian tried to take her hand, but she jerked away, "I told you, a willing participant cannot be used.

Elphaba shook her head, "It was such a weak and pathetic thing to do. I'm not even sure what I hoped to accomplish…"

"Not everything in life is about accomplishment," Adrian cut her off, "but if it helps, let me tell you what you did accomplish. I've spent so much of my life engrossed in facts and numbers that I'd started to lose touch with what really matters. I've become so obsessed with _knowing_ that I'd forgotten how important _feeling_ can be…"

Elphaba still looked away, unconvinced.

"You're an incredible woman, Elphaba. I'm not ashamed or regretful because I needed you as much as you needed me. We needed that moment, that night. My only regret is hurting Tessy, but that is really more my fault than yours, for being so stupidly male as not to recognize her behavior around me. You're not a whore, Elphaba. You're a great thinker and a great lover, and I would be stupid to walk away from a friendship with you simply because I didn't want to take responsibility for my actions."

Elphaba blushed furiously at his use of the word _lover._ She was speechless, struck dumb by such an honest display of respect.

Finally, she worked up the courage to look at him and said, "I would very much like to continue our friendship, but I cannot do so if it hurts Tessy…"

"Let me talk to her," Adrian offered, "perhaps she's less angry with me…"

"Perhaps…" Elphaba said softly, not convinced.

Mae pushed open the door just then, trying not to be disruptive. When she saw that no one was fighting or crying, she crossed the room and laid an envelope in Elphaba's hand.

"This came for you. It's unusual for us to get any mail, since it takes so long and we know almost no one outside of town," Mae said curiously.

Elphaba studied the envelope for a moment, finally recognizing the postmark as coming from Dallas. She was struck by both fear and curiosity at the same time. She ripped open the envelope and found two wrinkled pieces of paper. They were covered in a scribbling penmanship that she struggled to read.

_Miss Elfaba,_

_I'm sending this by your first name to Amber Plains in hopes that it reaches you. I never did get more than your first name. I'm havin' a friend of mine write this 'cause I never learned to write my letters all that well. I can read 'em, but I can't make my hand write 'em. After you's left, I gotta admit, I took a look at my life. For those two weeks you were here, I had an almost honest paying job. I even stayed nearly sober so's I could read. Made me realize how pathetic I'd become. Once you left, I tried to go back to drinkin', but it had lost some of its appeal. I got me a job loading box cars and decided to keep up your search for ya, just because I was so used to it. After some more diggin', and probably because the Marshall was so sick of seein' me, I found a word on your Mr. Tigelaar. Turns out he was released with only a slight scourging by a soft-hearted judge a month or so before you came. I cornered the judge in the local tavern, and all he could say is that this Fiyero seemed to be determined to find the men who'd first arrested him. They're a band of somewhat renegade officers who tend to make up the law as they go. They said he had a couple other prisoners with him when he left. I sure is sorry I don't know more than that. I hope it helps ya somewhat. And thanks for helpin' to sober me up. It was a long time comin'. _

_Yours,_

_Jed_

Elphaba sat in absolute shock, her hands trembling.

_He's alive._

That one phrase repeated itself over and over again until it felt as though the entire room was filled with it.

"I have to go," Elphaba stood suddenly, dropping the letter on the end table.

"Where?"

"What?"

Mae and Adrian spoke at the same moment.

"I have to go back to White Springs. He'll most certainly be heading there. He has family there..."

Mae had picked up the letter and was struggling to get through the ragged script. When she finished, she looked up to speak, but Elphaba had already darted, cat-like, up the stairs to pack her belongings.


	16. Chapter 16: A Time to Uproot

**Chapter 16: A Time to Uproot**

The following morning, Elphaba was up at dawn and packed. Tessy had been in her room since the previous evening, and still had the door tightly closed. Adrian had agreed to give all of them a few days to themselves, and Mae was quite beside herself at the state of her household. After some searching, she finally found Elphaba in the barn brushing Jasper.

"Do you have to leave so quickly?" Mae asked in a small voice, "I hate to see you leave with you and Tessy at odds with one another."

"All the pleading in the world won't make her forgive me right now," Elphaba answered while still brushing, "She's wounded. She'll do better without me right now."

"Perhaps I'll be able to talk with her," Mae tried to sound convincing.

"Perhaps. But forgiving me is up to her."

After a moment, Mae continued, "I wish there was something more we could do. We'll miss you terribly…"

Elphaba stopped brushing and turned to Mae, "I have to find him, Mae. I cannot atone for all the sins of my life. I cannot right all the wrongs, but I have to close this chapter. I've tried to move on, and it haunts me. No matter what the outcome, after nearly fifteen years, it's time. "

Mae nodded and silently watched as Elphaba brushed the horse until his coat shone like new copper. She then led him to the front porch, where she attached her few satchels. Mae went to the kitchen and returned with a small sack of biscuits, dried fruit, and a little honey she had left. Elphaba nodded her thank you and started to mount the horse.

Mae stopped her and held her hand for a long moment, "Be careful," she finally whispered and wrapped Elphaba in a hug, "I've already lost a daughter once…"

Elphaba nodded, a little afraid to speak. She mounted the horse and Mae took her hand once more.

"Elphie," she used the pet name for the first time, "We love you."

Elphaba nodded, and then turned away from her, not wanting to see the tears, and not wanting to shed any either. She spurred Jasper into a trot and rode away from the morning sun.

She stopped at Myra's house before heading out of Amber Plains. Elphaba rapped on the door and took a deep breath. Myra answered after a moment with a raised brow.

"I didn't expect to see you today," was all Myra said.

"I need to tell you that I'm leaving for a time. I have some personal business to attend to, but I hope to return soon," Elphaba kept her explanation short.

Myra's brow furrowed and she looked displeased, "I'll be missing your help with the animals and such. S'pose I might have to hire someone else to replace you…"

"I understand," Elphaba nodded.

Myra worked her jaw for a moment, still unhappy, "Won't be nearly as efficient as you, though…"

Elphaba could see the displeasure in the older woman's face. She took a deep breath, not wanting to reveal too much, but understanding that Myra did not have many friends, or even acquaintances.

"I have to find him, Myra," Elphaba tried to keep her tone even, "I thought he was dead. I held his body in my arms. If he's alive, I have to…"

Myra's expression changed, and Elphaba could see that, having revealed only that small sliver of her story, she understood. The older woman looked away, perhaps to blink away tears spurred by her own tragic past.

"Safe journey," Myra finally answered, "And I'll be hopin' for your quick return."

Elphaba nodded and headed back to Jasper, not able to stand the thick emotion any longer.

She found the journey back to White Springs uneventful, if a little cooler than before. In just two days, she saw the first buildings of the small town come into view. She passed through the heart of town this time, nodding at the few people who watched her pass. Elphaba thought she caught a hint of recognition in a few of the faces.

Just beyond the edge of town, Elphaba found herself in front of Jacob's house. She realized that her pulse was racing and her hands were trembling. She knew she was acting irrationally, and that Jacob would certainly have written to her if Fiyero had returned. Still, there was a shred of a chance that Fiyero had made his way home and was waiting just beyond the front door. She took a deep breath and climbed the porch steps.

Trudy opened the door and her face lit up at the sight of Elphaba. She hugged her warmly and pulled her into the kitchen. Trudy was asking questions and being perfectly warm in her greeting, but Elphaba could not hear, could not focus. She had to know if Fiyero was here.

"Trudy," Elphaba stopped her, "Is he here? Did Fiyero come back?"

The older woman's brow furrowed and her eyes registered concern. She was quiet for a moment before answering, "No sweetheart, we've not seen a lick of him in more than a year. I know Jacob told you…" she trailed off, sounding worried.

Elphaba felt deflated, "I know," she whispered, "I remember. I've not lost my mind. But I received this, and I had to come…"

Elphaba fished Jed's letter from her pocket and handed it to Trudy. She flopped down into a chair as the other woman read the ragged script on the now-crumpled paper. Finally, Trudy leaned against the counter and studied Elphaba for a long moment. Neither spoke.

"Who is this Jed?" Trudy finally asked.

"A man who helped us in Dallas. He was searching records for us…" Elphaba answered softly.

"Can he be trusted?"

"He doesn't have much to lose."

Trudy considered this before asking, "So our Fiyero is alive?"

Elphaba swallowed hard, still finding it hard to say the words out loud, "I believe he is alive, yes."

"And you think he's headed here?"

Elphaba considered for a moment, "From what I understand, this is his family. If I know him, this is where he would be headed."

Jacob entered the house just then, allowing the back door to slam behind him, "Who would be headed here?" he asked, before looking around, "Elphaba?" he was clearly surprised at her presence.

Elphaba stood, and Jacob embraced her briefly, "It's good to see you," he said warmly, "I'm still so sorry…for what happened in Dallas…I never imagined I would be leading you into that…" his voice became somber.

"I wanted to go," Elphaba quickly assured him. Her hand reached up instinctively to touch the scar on the left side of her face, which was cast in the soft, afternoon light.

"I'm still very sorry…" Jacob offered again.

"You should read this," Trudy broke the tension by handing Jacob the letter.

Jacob took the wrinkled paper, and the room was deathly silent as he worked his way through the rough script. When he finally looked up, his face was contorted in something between disbelief and joy.

"Yero?" he whispered.

Elphaba could only nod, and the three of them stared at each other, motionless. The clock ticked and the sun moved, and still they were silent. As long time passed, as though they would all remain that way until Fiyero appeared in the doorway.

Trudy fixed a room for Elphaba in the rambling farmhouse, and the next few days passed in quiet anticipation. None knew exactly what time frame to give their expectations, but all seemed lost in their own thoughts. Jacob had told only the oldest of the children, not wanting to upset the younger ones with such ambiguous news. At the end a week's time, Trudy, Elphaba, and Jacob found themselves sitting on the back porch, watching the sun set over the fields of ripe corn and wheat.

They had been quiet for some time when Trudy finally spoke, "Tell me how you met our Fiyero," she asked, glancing toward Elphaba.

Elphaba took a quick breath, unprepared for the question. She furrowed her brow, not sure that she wanted to answer.

"I know it ain't easy," Trudy stated, seeming to read her mind, "but we've lost him too, in our own way. We'd like to know something of his life, and maybe it'd help…to talk a little…"

Elphaba considered, finally giving in. The weight of her secrets pressed heavily upon her, and she was tired. She'd been offered the opportunity of confession again, and she took it.

"We met in school, University actually," she began, "Although he wasn't much more than a close acquaintance. He had been married as a child to a girl from his homeland. He was certainly unique, but he was shy and unsure of University life…" Elphaba trailed off as she remembered. She smiled a little as she continued, "I'll never forget his face the day that pair of magicked antlers pinned him--"

"Magicked?" Jacob cut her off, looking at her in disbelief.

Elphaba met his gaze, "Magick was a part of our world," she answered matter-of-factly.

Both Trudy and Jacob looked incredulous, but Elphaba continued anyway, "There were good times, with the group of us they called the Charmed Circle. We had a group of unlikely friends, and Fiyero fit… as well as any of us did, anyway…"

"So you were young lovers, then?" Trudy asked.

"No…we were both too shy and naïve and focused on our own ambitions for love. Perhaps we felt we were above the neediness of it…" Elphaba stopped, looking thoughtful. She finally continued, "We met again later, in the City of Emeralds, after we'd both changed a great deal. The world was less pretty, less ideal…less black and white…"

"And his young bride?" Trudy asked.

"Sometimes I think she was as disenchanted with him as he was with her. Arranged marriage does little for the needs of the heart…" Elphaba answered.

"Were there others? Other lovers? Perhaps someone else you could have spent your life with?" Trudy asked, not unkindly.

"No," Elphaba struggled with what to say next, "He was the first man, the only man, who did not force himself on me…the only man I ever trusted…"

Trudy studied her for a moment, and then finally answered, "I understand. You've been through some nasty stuff. Ain't fair…some of the stuff life gives us. Ain't right for one person to treat another in such a way…"

Elphaba nodded, surprised at how much Trudy understood from the vague way she had told the story.

"I'm glad," Trudy continued, "that you had someone like Yero to love you, if only for a time…"

Elphaba nodded again, her mind racing back to the corn exchange, remembering how he had made her feel. She remembered how he listened, how she had laughed for the first time in so long. She remembered how her body had tingled when he came near, and how she had needed him. She was overwhelmed suddenly, with the memory of pressing him against the wall. She was flooded with the feeling and scent of him, how he had lit a flame within her and made her life worth living again. And it was too much.

Choking back tears, Elphaba rose and fled into her room without another word.

Over the following weeks, the winds shifted and fall began to take its hold on the land. The corn and grain were harvested, the plants dropped their fruit, and the leaves began to wither. It was a sudden transition from the blazing sun and heat of summer, as the earth prepared itself for winter.

Elphaba had taken to riding into the nearest towns, searching for any sign or word of Fiyero. Jasper was accommodating, and seemed to enjoy the exercise. He was made for the open plains, and relished the sound of his own hooves beating against the dry, flat earth. In quiet moments, he told Elphaba of his life before Mae and Wilbur, as a wild stallion who'd escaped into the plains shortly after his mother had died. Elphaba would listen, and occasionally acknowledge the loneliness her own life had brought.

On one of these treks, in the sudden coolness of October, they rode into a small town about a day's journey from White Springs. It was a ramshackle place, with only a saloon, a corner market, and a small feed store. The people seemed shabbier here, less colorful and more drained from working the land. It was clearly a poor community, without the vibrant bustle of Amber Plains. A few men sat outside the feed store, sipping whiskey and spitting in dented, metal pails.

Elphaba nodded toward them, watching their mouths drop open in shock. She raised a hand in greeting, something she had learned tended to show people she at least meant no harm. She dismounted and left Jasper nibbling on some long grasses growing just beyond the market. She took a breath and pushed open the door.

The woman behind the well-worn counter froze in shock as she took in the person who had just walked in. Elphaba approached her slowly, yet confidently. She laid her open hands on the counter and stated, "My name is Elphaba, and yes, I've always been this color. I was born this way. And I don't mean you any harm. I'm just looking for someone."

Elphaba watched as the woman's expression changed from shock to wary curiosity. She had found that confronting someone's first questions right away stemmed their tendency to overreact.

"I'm looking for a colored man by the name of Tigelaar, Fiyero Tigelaar. He would be traveling from Dallas, possibly heading toward White Springs," Elphaba hated to use the term 'colored', but she found it was the only descriptive the people in the area understood.

The woman behind the counter considered the question, studying Elphaba's face, "Haven't seen or heard of anyone by that name," she finally answered.

Elphaba let out a heavy breath, and turned away.

The other woman, sensing Elphaba's great disappointment, added, "I'm sorry I can't help…"

Elphaba nodded, appreciating the concern. Feeling utterly deflated once again, she shuffled around the store for a moment, taking in the bales of grain and jars of preserved strawberries and peaches. She stopped in the corner, as something caught her eye. Amidst the hand-made gardening tools, washing tubs, and other household cleaners, Elphaba spotted a broom. She reached for it, feeling the smooth, sanded wood against her palms. The handle was mottled in green and brown, made from a thick branch from a young, strong tree. It was knotted and had slight crook that gave it personality. The head was made of tightly wound straw, with hints of amber and red amidst the pale yellow.

Elphaba lifted it, feeling its weight, testing its construction. It seemed to make sense with her, as though it had been waiting in that corner for just this moment when she would walk through the door. The flecks of green in the handle matched the green of Elphaba's hands. She wanted it.

"How much is the broom?" Elphaba found herself asking.

"Fifty cents," the woman behind the counter answered.

Elphaba found herself digging through her satchel and placing the coins on the counter. It was a bit of an extravagance, since she really had no use for a broom at her current stage of life. Still, for some reason, she was compelled to have it. She couldn't say for sure that she was able to use magick here, or that any other broom would fly for her as the first one had. She had no reason to believe that there was anything particularly unique about this thing that was made to dust floors. Perhaps it was just comforting, to hold this broom and remember something that had gotten her through so many difficult years. It had been the one thing in her life that had brought her a measure of escape. Maybe it just made her feel more like herself. Either way, she felt better carrying it from the store. She felt more complete.

Elphaba stepped back out of the store into the fading, afternoon sun. She rounded the corner and began to walk somewhat aimlessly down the dusty street. A sudden breeze kicked up and blew a few thick, loose strands of hair into her face. Frustrated, she pulled the pin from her hair in an attempt to tame it. In the moment of distraction, she found herself face to face with another passerby. It was a young girl of no more than twelve.

It was her. True, her dress was different. It was yellow gingham, and she wore worn boots. Her hair hung down her back in a thick braid. Still, it was unmistakably her.

_Dorothy._

Elphaba froze, her hand instinctively seizing the broom, while the girl took her in. Elphaba had worn the black dress Mae had made for her, which was becoming more weather-appropriate in the coolness of fall. The hints of red in it glinted in the sun. Her skin was unmistakably green in this light, and her hair tumbled about her in a black cascade. She clutched the broom, as Dorothy would have remembered.

It was certainly her, Dorothy realized, the great Wicked of the West that she had so feared. Yet in the familiarity, there were noticeable differences. Gone was the pointed hat that cast her face in eerie shadows. Her hair was not the scraggly knot she remembered. Dorothy hardly believed this mane of rippling, black curls had been hidden beneath a hat and years of neglect. Her dress was not worn and faded. Her skin was not a sickly green, but an emerald shade that was almost pretty. The greatest difference was her eyes. They were wide and brown, and far less haunted. For Dorothy, it was like confronting an image from a nightmare in the fresh light of day, only to discover there was no monster.

"It's you…" Dorothy finally choked out.

Elphaba could only nod.

"No one believed my story. They all said I dreamed it all up. They all said there's no such thing as green people, or talking lions and scarecrows," Dorothy stated, her tone a bit resentful, "But it's you. You're the Wicked Witch of the West."

"No," Elphaba finally spoke, "I am Elphaba Thropp," she hoped Dorothy was old enough to understand the meaning behind the correction.

"They said you were a dream I created, just a version of the mean old widow down the street," Dorothy responded.

"Perhaps you should find out why she's so mean. Maybe you don't know her at all," Elphaba added.

Dorothy considered this, finding she was just old enough to consider such an enigmatic possibility.

"Your son, Liir," Dorothy threw out somewhat haphazardly, "He loves you. Very much. He won't say it, but I'm sure."

Elphaba turned away suddenly, as tears pricked her eyes. She turned and ran back towards Jasper, unable to confront these demons any longer.

Dorothy watched her go, suddenly less afraid. She saw the tears, and in them, the humanity. She did not follow, did not scream, but instead watched Elphaba flee. As she disappeared, so did some of the wickedness Dorothy had so feared.

Later that evening, once Elphaba had fled from town astride Jasper, Fiyero Tigelaar found himself shuffling into the same scrubby town. He led his horse, who was travel weary and dirty, to the few bales of hay just outside the corner store. Inside, he removed his wide-brimmed hat and greeted the clerk.

"Does the town have a hostel or inn of any sort?" he asked.

"No, 'fraid not," the woman answered, "but there's a nice couple just outside town who will take in the occasional traveler."

"I'll take them up on that," Fiyero answered gratefully.

"Can't miss 'em," the woman added, "Little, gray farm house with a lot of chickens just a bit down the road. Only respectable farm that still keeps animals in that direction."

Fiyero nodded and left. He led his horse down the ill-kept road as the sun sank lower in the sky. The brightest of the afternoon light was almost gone when he knocked on the door of the farmhouse. A weather-worn woman answered the door, brushing flour off her hands. Her hair was graying and trying to escape from its knot, but her eyes were still kind.

"I was hoping you might have a room for the night, for me and my horse. It's been a long journey," Fiyero offered no other explanation.

An older man appeared in the doorway, sizing up Fiyero before speaking, "Name's Henry," he finally offered his hand, "Come in and have some dinner."

Fiyero was grateful, leaving his horse near the trough of water and entering the house. The family was small and somewhat mismatched, with the elderly couple, a few farmhands, and a young girl. They all sat down around a small table

After several minutes of just the sounds of forks and plates meeting, the young girl piped up, "I saw the Wicked Witch today."

The older woman, who had introduced herself as Emily, looked exasperated, "Dorothy, we've asked you to stop calling Mrs. Gulch a witch. Now you've got your dog back, and no matter what you dreamed, you can't go 'round callin' folks witches!"

"No! I saw the real witch, just like I told you about! It wasn't a dream, really it wasn't!"

This time, Henry interjected, "Child, it's been months. It ain't good for you to dwell so much on a nightmare. The storm passed, we rebuilt the house, and you need to leave the fantasies behind."

Tonight, however, Dorothy would not be silenced, "But I saw her this time! I have no idea how she got here, but I talked to her! She was as green as grass, and far less ugly than I remember! And she said her name is Elphaba!"

Fiyero dropped his fork, his stomach suddenly twisted into knots. In his mind, he was propelled back more than fourteen years to another time, another life. His senses were assaulted by the scent of oils, the feeling of soft skin, and hair infused with the essence of firelight. He closed his eyes for a moment, as it all overwhelmed him.

_Elphie. Elphaba. Fae._

It was too much, and he excused himself to the porch, where he took in deep breaths of cool, fresh air. It was several moments before he realized that only the young girl could answer the questions that now swarmed within him. Only she could tell him if the impossible was, in fact, true.


	17. Chapter 17: A Time to Tear Down

**Chapter 17: A Time to Tear Down**

Fiyero returned to the table after several minutes, still shaking, but knowing he couldn't spend the night on the porch. These folks had already shown him too much kindness. Henry gave him a concerned look, and he noticed Dorothy had been silenced. She was now eating with her head down close to her plate.

"I'm sorry," Fiyero apologized, "I just needed some fresh air. It's been a long journey…" he hoped the explanation would suffice for now.

Emily smiled sympathetically and asked, "And where are you journeying from?"

Fiyero considered the question, not sure if his story would draw compassion or make them wary of him. After a moment, he hesitantly began, "I'm traveling from Dallas. I had a run-in with the local law in White Springs and spent some time in jail in Dallas. I was finally released when they couldn't uphold the charges."

Both Emily and Henry looked concerned for a moment. Fiyero was sure that the term 'jail' did little to comfort them.

"I was drug off of my family farm simply for owning land, and for being 'colored' as they like to say," Fiyero tried to ease their fears, "I've never harmed anyone outside of defending myself."

The older couple looked slightly more at ease.

"I've been traveling for several months. I left Dallas with two other men, both arrested on charges that fell far below the law. One of them had lost his son in a gun fight with some renegade members of the law. We went looking for this band of so-called Marshals who arrested us. It took several weeks, but we finally ran into them in western Oklahoma. We wanted some measure of restitution for the way we'd been treated. We challenged them to a fair fight, as is often done in this country. After a rough fight and many draws, their band was…disabled," Fiyero chose his words carefully, taking note of Dorothy's continued presence at the table.

Emily and Henry listened carefully, now looking mostly compassionate towards him.

"I understand I'm a stranger, and maybe a questionable one to you. I'll sleep in the barn, if you have one. You have a young girl to watch over," Fiyero offered.

Neither protested, and Fiyero guessed they were as much short on space as they were concerned. He helped to clear his dishes and then made his way out to the barn, where he found clean dry hay and several new horse blankets. It was a better place to sleep then he'd had in some time. He fidgeted though, struggling to calm the swirling thoughts in his head.

Unfortunately, Dorothy had been sent to bed just after supper because of her persistent outburst about the 'wicked witch.' From what Fiyero could gather, she must have been wheedling on about this witch for some time now. Considering it made his stomach twist into knots, and he fell asleep only out of sheer exhaustion. Even then, his dreams were filled with chaotic images of Elphaba and this strange young girl, who claimed to have seen her.

The following morning, Fiyero woke to Emily offering him fresh eggs and milk for breakfast. He was grateful, and offered his thanks. He ate hungrily, feeling significantly better after having had a decent night's sleep.

He took some time that morning to look around the farm, having found that Dorothy was occupied with school work most of the morning. He couldn't very well demand to talk to a twelve-year-old girl with the urgency he felt. It would surely terrify her family and cause them to send him on his way. So Fiyero waited.

He found that the farm was small, but well kept. There were chickens and a couple cows, as well as a few pigs and a field with horses. The house was tiny for a farm in these parts, but Emily appeared to keep it quite neat. The animals and property were tended by a few farmhands who had clearly been employed since they were much younger. It was one of these men who explained to him about Dorothy.

"She came here after her parents were killed in an accident at sea. Quite the tragedy. She was just a little thing, hardly remembers her parents at all. Her grandmother, her mother's mother, died just before she was born, or she might've gone to her. The grandmother raised Dorothy's mother all alone till she married Dorothy's father. The child never met her grandfather. Some folks say her grandmother was raped and the man ran off, but if you find someone who's really willing to spill the truth, they say the grandmother had a lover. Some stranger, who won her heart and then took advantage and disappeared without a trace. Either way, it's a sad history to have. I know Miss Em and Mr. Henry hope to do right by Dorothy…" the man looked thoughtful for a moment before going back to shoveling hay.

Fiyero considered the story, knowing it must be hard for Dorothy, to have lost so much of her family. A part of him said it could be her past that caused her to dream up wicked witches and other worlds. Yet it still did not account for her knowing Elphaba's name. She had absolutely no way of knowing that.

Later that day, after they'd all had a modest and quiet lunch, Fiyero found Dorothy sitting on the front porch steps, drawing in the dusty soil with a stick.

"Hello," Fiyero offered.

"Hello," Dorothy quietly responded. She smiled a little, and patted the little dog beside her.

"What are you drawing?" Fiyero asked.

"Oz," Dorothy replied matter-of-factly.

Fiyero felt his stomach flip again, "And what is Oz?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"I'm not supposed to talk about it anymore," Dorothy sighed.

"Well, I've never heard the story," Fiyero suggested.

"I suppose that's true," Dorothy gave in, "It's a place everyone says I dreamed up. We had a bad twister here last spring, and our house mostly disappeared. Some folks a few miles away found me a few weeks after the twister. Scared Aunt Em and Uncle Henry pretty good, and all I could remember of those weeks was Oz. They all say I dreamed it up, but I swear, it was a real place…"

Fiyero swallowed hard, trying to press for more without scaring the young girl, "And what of this wicked witch?" he asked.

Dorothy looked alarmed, and curious. "Why do you want to know?" she asked.

Fiyero tried to smile a little, "I suppose it's been a very long time since I've heard a good story. Even if it was a dream, it does sound like a fantastic story," he offered.

Dorothy looked a little more at ease, "It really was," she started again, "There were all sorts of strange people, like munchkins and animals that could speak. I spent the whole time simply wanting to come home, but I couldn't find anyone who would show me the way. I was given a beautiful pair of shoes by Miss Glinda the Good…"

"Galinda, you say?" Fiyero asked incredulously.

"I think it was just Glinda…" Dorothy looked thoughtful.

Fiyero listened intently while she described her journey into the Emerald City, and her instructions to kill the Wicked Witch of the West. He was fascinated by her careful description of the Lion, the animated scarecrow, and the man of tin. Oz was never short of strange and magicked creatures, of that much he was sure.

Finally, Dorothy began to describe her trip into what he knew as the Vinkus. Her description of Kiamo Ko was quite accurate for one so young, and finally, he saw Elphaba through her eyes.

"They all called her the Wicked Witch of the West," Dorothy was saying, "She was living mostly alone in this great castle, just her, an ancient old woman, and a young boy. She was a green as grass and dressed in filthy black. She was thin and I think much older looking than she was….is…" she paused to think, "She wore a peculiar hat, with an odd point that kept her face in scary shadows. I remember her eyes were dark and she just looked….evil, or maybe…sick. She was so full of hate and meanness…it frightened me terribly…I could see why she was called a witch....and I remember she had a lot of animals…strange things like bees and monkeys…"

Dorothy paused in her story, staring off into the sky, remembering.

"And what did this witch do to you?" Fiyero finally asked.

"Nothing, I suppose. She chased us around and shrieked like someone gone mad. She was determined we were there to harm her, although I knew I could never have killed her like they wanted me to. I'm not nearly that brave, or heartless…"

"And what became of her," Fiyero questioned with a pounding heart.

"She chased us into a tower and scared us terribly, and then lit herself on fire with her broom. I was only trying to help when I threw the water on her…I didn't know she would…."

Fiyero swallowed hard, remembering vividly Elphaba's intense and justified fear of water, "She would what?" he finally asked.

"Melt," Dorothy almost whispered, "She shrieked and fell and just….melted into nothing…."

"Nothing?" Fiyero choked out.

"Well, I ran…but I swear she was…gone…" Dorothy concluded.

"What did you do then?"

"We took her broom, the boy and I, and went back to the Wizard. He was a strange, sullen boy who I'm sure was her son…"

"Her son?" Fiyero asked, suddenly startled.

"Yes," Dorothy confirmed, "I could see in his face that he was tormented by what happened, and he'd been with her since birth. You could see the connection, even if he resented it…"

"That's a pretty complicated bit of intuition for someone as young as yourself," Fiyero threw out.

Dorothy considered, "I've had a lot of time to think in my life," she offered, twirling her stick in the dusty soil.

Fiyero swallowed again, "So what do you think became of…the witch?" he asked.

"I thought she died, until yesterday…" Dorothy admitted.

"And you say you saw her?"

"Yes," Dorothy looked up suddenly, her face defensive, "I was in town getting sugar, and I nearly ran into her in the street. Although…she looked…different…"

"Different how?"

Dorothy chewed her lip, "She was much younger than I thought, and she wasn't nearly as…frightening. I might not have known her, except she was still as green as grass. But she almost looked like a lady…and her hat was gone. She had all this hair…this beautiful hair…"

She might have continued talking, but Fiyero didn't hear any more. His throat constricted and he felt tears prick behind his eyes. It had been a long time since he'd cried, feeling that it was incredibly weak. However, he was overwhelmed by emotion and stood up suddenly.

"I'll be…right back," he stuttered, leaving Dorothy with her dog and her drawings.

Fiyero walked across the yard and leaned on a nearby apple tree. He tried to swallow past the tears and calm his racing thoughts. However, his senses were overcome with what Dorothy had described.

_That hair, _he remembered, _My God…that hair…_

He could still feel it, still smell the wild scent of it. By allowing that memory, he was accosted by more. He vividly remembered her skin, her eyes, her wry smile, and mellow, lilting voice. He remembered her scars, her pain, how she had let him love her, and how young he'd been to experience such a powerful connection with another person. And now, on top of these already painful memories, Dorothy had talked of a son. Doing some quick math, Fiyero dared to consider this son might be his. It was a remote chance, but still a chance. It further pained him to think that this haunted witch was who his Fae had become after he had supposedly died. She had become this great Wicked Witch that Dorothy said was so feared and hated. That is what life had done to her.

He also noted that she mentioned nothing of Sarima, or his other children. They should have been at Kiamo Ko, but then, perhaps they abandoned the castle once news of his death reached them. He wondered if Elphaba had seen them, if she had told them of his fate, or of their affair. As much as he loved Elphaba, it pained him to think of hurting his children with such news.

"There was one more thing," Dorothy had come up silently behind him, "She was crying, when I mentioned the boy. She ran way, but I know she was crying…"

Fiyero could not speak, and Dorothy concluded, "That's when I knew she can't truly be wicked. The wicked don't cry…"

The pain of his emotions was so great, Fiyero dug his fingers into the bark of the tree until they bruised, and bit his lip until he tasted blood. He wanted to cry, but he was afraid of letting the tears loose. He didn't know that he could grieve for her again and continue to live.

Fiyero stayed with Dorothy's family, claiming continued fatigue and offering his help with the chores and harvesting. Emily and Henry seemed grateful and in need of the help, and did not question his continued presence. He felt as though staying in town was the surest way to run into Elphaba.

Fiyero went into town each day and scoured the few dusty streets for any sign of her. Dorothy wasn't able to tell him where her 'wicked witch' had come from, or where she might have been traveling. The only other person who claimed having seen her was the woman who worked the counter at the corner market. She admitted with wide-eyed amazement that she had indeed seen a green woman, but refused to discuss it further. She seemed afraid of being thought insane.

As days became weeks, Fiyero's hopes began to fade, and he started to wonder if he might be going a little insane himself. What were the chances of Elphaba returning to him like this? Even if she could cross whatever boundary existed between this place and Oz, how could she know where he was? And if both were possible, what had stopped her for the past fourteen years? He began to think perhaps Dorothy had affected those around her. Perhaps her stories caused her, and others, to see green people. It was far fetched, and yet so was the idea of finding his Fae.

It was just before Thanksgiving when he decided he had to either return home to his family, who most likely thought he was dead, or embark on a potentially futile search for Elphaba. Logic told him to go home, to see the children he loved, to take care of his home and the people he knew missed him terribly. Yet his heart wanted Elphaba, and he couldn't make himself choose the logical answer.

So he thanked Emily and Henry and set out towards the western sun. He was determined to scour each town he found for word of a strange, green woman, in hopes that logic would fail, and that she would suddenly appear.

A few days before Thanksgiving, Elphaba rode wearily up to Trudy and Jacob's house. She had been gone for several days this time searching, and the constant travel was beginning to wear on her. She was thinner and her eyes were dark and heavy. Her hair was tangled from the wind and her clothes needed a good soaking.

Trudy took one look at her and said, "Goodness knows child, get in this house! This constant searching has got to stop! You look a fright, and you're about to make yourself deathly sick!"

Elphaba had learned over the past several weeks that Mae's quiet strength ran in stark contrast to Trudy's boisterous nature, yet they were both motivated by unshakable love and loyalty. So she did not protest when Trudy pulled her from Jasper's saddle and sent him to the barn where Jacob was working. She pulled Elphaba into the house and sent her straight to the bathtub.

Elphaba did not have the will to disagree. She helped fill the tub and then stripped off her filthy clothes. Her hands and feet were raw from the wind, weather, and constant riding. Her feet were blistered and bruised from walking, and her body was scratched and sore from the wild grasses and the strain of constantly being astride a horse. Her hair was in such knots, she considered simply shearing it off.

Trudy would not allow it, however, when Elphaba approached her with the scissors after a thorough bathing.

"I'll do no such thing! Hair like that is a blessing from God!" Trudy took the heavy tresses in her hand for a moment, "Can't believe you've been hiding all this in a knot all this time…" with that, she sat Elphaba down in the living room and began working a brush through her tangled mane.

After several moments, and for reasons she could not completely explain, Elphaba slowly stated, "Fiyero loved my hair…I think because it was…unexpected. I thought it was simply a sexual infatuation but…I think he loved it because it was uniquely…me…" she trailed off then, swallowing hard over the ache in her throat.

Trudy stopped brushing for a moment and was quiet. She finally answered, "He loved you more than you dare to imagine, Miss Elphaba. I saw him when he came here, alone and devastated. It took him some time before he could speak of you. He loved you so much he took me in as a mother to these children as opposed to taking a wife. It takes something to make a man do that. Especially when he could have had his choice of women…"

Elphaba took the brush from Trudy then and pulled her hair back into a tight knot, "I'm sorry," she choked out, "It's just…that's all I can handle…" she sat, unmoving, and began to tremble as she held back sobs. Yet she desperately did not want to cry again.

"Elphaba," Trudy started, "you can't continue to live like this. You can't keep searching for him at the cost of your own health and sanity. If he's comin' back, then he'll show up here in his own time. But you've got to live your life…do what Yero did, find something else to love and give to. You've gotta do more than just survive. Look what it's doing to you…"

Trudy's words stayed with her long after dinner. It was strange, that Trudy would echo the same things that Mae had tried to tell her. Elphaba knew they were right, both of them. She couldn't search for him forever, and she couldn't sit pining for him forever. She had already discovered something she was gifted in, and she'd been on the cusp of really using it when Jed's letter had arrived. This was the third time in her life that she had put her life on hold for a fruitless search for closure. It was truly time to move on.

She told the family over breakfast.

"We'll miss you Miss Elphie," Molly offered in her tiny voice.

Elphaba tried to smile, realizing her heart had grown softer still from her time here, and the children didn't scare her into awkwardness quite as much as they used to.

"I'll certainly return," she offered to everyone.

They all saw her off as she loaded her things onto Jasper. The children pulled at her skirts and wanted to hug her. She let them, wishing she had been willing to appreciate the innocence of a child in her jaded and sardonic youth.

Just before mounting Jasper, she turned and said to Trudy, "As soon as there's any word…you will send for me?"

"Of course, child," Truly agreed.

She rode away then, leaving her hopes for Fiyero's return in their hands.

The return trip was cold this time, and the landscape had taken on a gray tone as the fields shut down for winter. The grains had been harvested, the crops picked and canned and stored. The air had a bite that hinted at snow as the landscape ushered in winter. It was an endless cycle, the change of seasons. Fall became winter here the same as it did in Oz. It was the only constant for Elphaba, the only thing she could depend on. It had always brought her some peace, knowing winter would give birth to spring, and so on. It helped her now, as she rode towards uncertainty yet again.

Mae was in the yard when she arrived, and she dropped her work and ran to embrace Elphaba. She smiled a little, enjoying the feeling of coming home.

Then the door opened, and Tessy came out onto the porch. Both women froze, and none spoke. Finally, Tessy said simply, "Dinner's ready."

"I'll take a plate upstairs," Elphaba stated.

"No," Mae's voice was firm, "you've traveled a long way and you're exhausted. And it's been nearly two months. You'll eat with us."

Elphaba was too tired to argue. They ate mostly in silence, and Tessy disappeared wordlessly soon after the meal. Elphaba collapsed into a chair on the porch, studying the sky and considering what to do with tomorrow. Mae sat down silently beside her.

After a moment, she said, "I talked with Tessy some while you've been gone."

Elphaba wasn't really ready to confront the issue, "Do you not want to know if I found Fiyero?" she asked.

"You couldn't have. You're too despondent. And surely you would not come home alone if you had," Mae answered.

Elphaba looked away, wordlessly confirming Mae's statement.

"I believe Tessy was more hurt than angry," Mae continued, "and hurt makes us do awful things…"

"I've been hurt," Elphaba defended, "and I have never used the word _whore_."

"Have you never used other words that were needless and hurtful? Have you never lashed out at someone because of your own pain?"

The truth was too painful for Elphaba to admit.

Mae continued, "Imagine if you found that Tessy had been intimate with your Fiyero. Imagine the hurt you'd feel…"

Elphaba snorted, "I've always been the other woman, Mae. I don't know what it's like not to share the man I love…"

"Then you still know the hurt that it causes," Mae offered softly.

Elphaba was silent, considering that perhaps she did.

"I don't think Tessy understood what you hoped to gain, by sleeping with Adrian. She took it as something meant just to hurt her, because she loves him," Mae explained further.

Elphaba chewed her lip, wavering between sadness and anger again. Finally, she gave in, "Then maybe she doesn't know what it's like, to be so empty and lonely and just to…need something. I just needed to be loved, to be touched. She doesn't know what it's like, to spend your life being reviled, detested, and feared…" Elphaba defended.

"Elphaba," Mae began deliberately, "She's a half-breed colored woman, as people choose to call her, trying to live alone in this country. I think she does know something of hatred and misunderstanding and fear."

Elphaba felt exhaustion getting the better of her, and she could not think of an effective argument.

"The two of you have so much in common, so many hurts that you share. Don't let this ruin what could be an incredible friendship. In my opinion, one night of sex will not fill any great void that exists in your heart, but you are an adult with the right to make your own choices. And the fact remains that you did not know about Tessy's feelings while you were in Boston. You must talk to her. This is a chance to choose compassion over bitterness…and I think that's something both of you could can appreciate."

Mae left then, leaving Elphaba to her thoughts. Yet her words stayed with Elphaba long after night fell and she'd climbed the stairs to her room. She lay in bed, stroking Bala, unable to sleep. She felt as though she were watching her life play out before her, like the sad and twisted story that it was.

Elphaba considered her recent run-in with Dorothy, and the memories that it had conjured up. Her last days in Kiamo Ko tended to be a blur of useless activity and poorly channeled anger. What had begun as a genuine passion to right the wrongs of a society being thrust into a holocaust had turned into madness and paranoia towards every person she met. Fiyero's death had jaded and hardened her so much that she'd spent the past fourteen years alienating her son, stewing over forgiveness she would never be given, and developing skills she refused to use for the greater good of anyone. And in the final moments of her life in Oz, she had taken out all the pain and bitterness on a young girl who was too naïve to willingly have harmed anyone. At the time, Elphaba had been half-intoxicated and sleep-deprived to the point of madness. Now, it all seemed like lunacy.

She dared to consider that Tessy's reaction had been fueled by a similar, overwhelming flood of emotion. As much as being called a whore still cut to her heart, she considered the idea that both she and Tessy were equally capable of unnecessary harm. Elphaba's heart ached for both of them, and, in that moment, she understood how much she needed Tessy's friendship.

Only a few miles away, yet a world apart, Fiyero stared at the same sky, watching the same stars swirl and brighten and change through the night. He was sleeping outside, having ridden many miles that day searching for other ramshackle towns where Elphaba might be hiding. The blanket did little to soften the hard earth beneath him, and he could not sleep.

Over and over again Dorothy's story played out in his head. It was a dismal picture that she painted of Oz. Even as long as he had been gone, it was still his home. He hated to imagine the atrocities the Animals were experiencing, the impending civil war, and what both Nessarose and Elphaba had become in the eyes of the citizens. Dorothy's description of Elphaba as the Wicked Witch of the West was horrific and devastating, especially knowing how much his lover had always genuinely cared for the rights of all creatures. She cared so much that she would have died for the cause. It made him ache, to think of his Fae as a haunted woman, aged beyond her years, living in a remote castle and shrieking madly at children and animals. And then there was the question of what had brought her to Kiamo Ko, which was his home, in the first place. What had become of Sarima and his children? What of this other child whom Dorothy called Elphaba's son?

There were too many questions, and it made Fiyero's head throb. He fell into an uneasy sleep, alone on the open plains and feeling as far from Elphaba as he had ever been.


	18. Chapter 18: A Time to Build

**Chapter 18: A Time to Build**

The morning of Thanksgiving, Elphaba was up early helping Mae with the preparations for dinner. This was a holiday she wasn't familiar with, although she could appreciate the sentiment. Celebrating a time when two very different cultures had come together in peace was something this household could relate to. In a very fitting gesture, Mae had asked Myra to join them for dinner, knowing the older woman had spent many a holiday alone in her house with a bottle of whiskey. Surprisingly, Myra had agreed. Adrian would also be coming, Mae had said, although Elphaba suspected it was not just because he would otherwise be alone.

So Elphaba was gathering up some fresh eggs for one of Mae's pies when she stumbled upon two people in the shadows of the barn. Oblivious to the world around them, they were entwined in each other's arms. Their kiss was long and deep, their disheveled clothes ignored.

It took a moment, but Elphaba easily recognized them as Adrian and Tessy. She stood still, momentarily shocked, and then felt an overwhelming sadness wash over her. It was not, however, because Adrian had moved on. Adrian did not love her like that, and she had never expected him to. She hurt because that was how she'd loved Fiyero. What the couple in front of her shared, was what was taken from her. In the moment, she felt terribly alone.

Elphaba wordlessly fled the barn. Unbeknownst to her, Tessy saw her.

They all sat down to Thanksgiving dinner around four o'clock, and Wilbur said grace quite eloquently for 'just an old farmer', as the liked to call himself. The food was exquisite, Elphaba had to admit, but the silence was thick and palpable. None spoke, except to compliment Mae on her cooking. Myra thanked them for the invitation, as did Adrian, and then they began to eat in silence. Elphaba refused to look at either Adrian or Tessy, and Mae made a few efforts at small talk before looking desperately at Wilbur for help.

Finally, Myra shocked them all by speaking up, "Well if this is not the most awkward and depressing meal I've eaten yet. You'd think someone'd died and we're mournin' their passin'. I know I've never been much good as company, but Lord sakes what's eatin' you folks?"

No one answered. Mae cleared her throat and Elphaba stared hard at her plate.

"Well…this is the first Thanksgivin' I've had outside my own house in so long I can't remember. And it ain't no secret that's because I've been stewin' in my own bitterness for some years now. There ain't no way I'm gonna let you folks let this holiday pass with anger and bitterness between you. So start talkin'. Who's gripe is with who?"

Adrian, who was ever the peacemaker, said softly, "I think this might be my fault, and I can't stand this silent war anymore…"

"No," Tessy cut him off, "It's my fault. I did something awful. I called Elphie…I called her a whore…"

No one spoke for a long time. Finally, in an effort to break the tension, Wilbur stated, "Good potatoes, Mae," then, realizing his compliment had not changed the mood, he quickly went back to eating.

"Did you mean what you said?" Myra finally asked.

"No…" Tessy whispered, on the verge of tears.

Myra looked toward Elphaba, who was staring at the table, her fingernails dug into the table on either side of her plate.

There was another long silence.

Finally, Myra spoke again, as though she knew only she could offer what Elphaba needed to hear, "I hated my husband when he died. We had quarreled long and hard for two years, mostly 'cause I was a young bride who didn't understand what marriage would bring. I hadn't said a kind word to him in longer than I could remember. Then, those soldiers came and burned the place to the ground, takin' my whole family. I was sleeping downstairs, to be away from him, to make a point. They all died that night, and I never had the chance to make it right. I couldn't give or receive forgiveness. It was simply over, that quickly. So I've been hurt, been scarred and hateful and bitter. And now I'm an old woman, alone in my bitterness. I won't see none of you come to that. Might as well lay it out here on the table. Get out what hurts ya so you can live the life you got left. I'm willin' to sit here all day if that's what it takes to do that."

After a moment, Mae spoke up, "I lost a daughter…three years ago…to a terrible tragedy," she took Wilbur's hand and looked at Tessy and Elphaba, "I feel like God has blessed me with the two of you, even though you're grown women. I pray that you can find a way to forgive each other.…"

Tessy swallowed hard and started softly, "I grew up in the shadow of slavery. I lost my father once my mother's husband realized I was not his daughter. I was raped and abandoned, and my hopes for love were shattered when my fiancé was shot. They shot him because he wanted to marry me, and for no other reason. I've never been able to love anyone else. I've never tried. Until now. I was so hurt and angry at the idea of Adrian with anyone other than me, that I called Elphie…a horrible word, and it was a word I knew would hurt her. It was a terrible thing. A deliberately hateful thing. And I am ashamed…" she trailed off, fighting back tears.

They were all silent now, looking towards Elphaba. She was pale and trembling, and terrified of speaking for fear that she might cry or explode.

Myra urged, "Elphaba…we've all lived through hell…our own hell…it's ok to be hurt, but it's time to let it go."

Finally, the words came out in a torrent, as Elphaba described the mother who'd been ashamed of her, and her father who withheld any real love in favor of religious fervor. She told of her social isolation and her entrance into the Resistance, born out of a desire to right some wrongs and to have a purpose. When she got to her time spent in the city after having left Galinda, she could barely force the words out.

"I…worked for a man, an Animal…he gave me shelter and…forced me to pay…with myself. He would bring men and…I lived that way for about a year…and Fiyero is the only one who ever knew…"

She choked back the tears as she described her chance encounter with Fiyero, and the affair that ensued. She let the story of his death tumble out of her, trembling terribly as she described the still-vivid memory of his blood in her hair. The rest played out like it had so many times in her haunted memories. The question of Liir's birth, her years in the Vinkus, her ever increasing madness, all culminating with her sudden and unexplainable appearance in this place called Kansas.

When she finished the story, she stopped for a moment, and then added, "All I wanted was forgiveness…from Sarima for ruining her family, from the Animals for failing them, from the world…for being so wicked…"

Myra cut in then, unable to stand anymore. "Child," she stated, "Surely the woman understood why you were there. She had to have known, otherwise she would never have stopped you from tellin' your story. It's her own fault for not wantin' to hear it, not yours. And as for being wicked, well, I treated you somethin' awful when I first saw you, and you've done right by me anyway. I can't name another soul who would've done that. You've suffered enough for whatever sins you may have committed. Every one at this table has wrongs they can't right and hurts they can't forget. Today, we're layin' them on this table, and we're gonna leave 'em there. And we're gonna eat in thankfulness for the life we still have to live."

No one spoke for some time. The clock ticked and Wilbur ate quietly, as though it was his only way to cope with the tension.

Finally, Tessy came around the table and pulled Elphaba to her feet. She embraced her, and Elphaba was too shocked to move, "I'm sorry," Tessy said through tears, "I'm so terribly sorry for hurting you."

Against her will, Elphaba felt two solitary tears slide down her face. She whispered, "And I'm sorry…for what I did…"

Myra allowed another moment to pass before she broke the silence, "All right," she lifted her fork, "That's enough sadness. Now let's eat as though we've found something to be thankful for."

Mae's smile was wide now, and Wilbur chuckled a little, clearly amazed that Myra had been the one to bring them together.


	19. Chapter 19: A Time to Gather

**Chapter 19: A Time to Gather**

The following morning, Elphaba sat on the front porch sipping coffee. She stared out at the quiet fields, which sparkled under a sheen of frost. Tessy came quietly out the door and sat down next to her. Neither spoke for a long time, as the sun slowly rose in the sky. Finally, Elphaba spoke first.

"You and Adrian seem like you've gotten…close."

"I love him, Elphie. I really love him, and I believe he loves me," Tessy answered softly.

Elphaba nodded.

"If it hurts you…to see us together, we could…"

"No," Elphaba cut her off and turned to look Tessy in the eyes, "I told you, I don't love him the way you do, and I meant it. I respect him, which is a lot to say given that he is a man, but I was never in love with him. You shouldn't hide your relationship on account of me."

After a moment, Tessy took Elphaba's hand, "You do know how genuinely sorry I am, don't you? I have never, ever truly thought of you as a—"

"I saw the two of you in the barn," Elphaba cut Tessy off before she could say the horrific word again.

"I know," Tessy answered, "I saw you too…"

Elphaba looked surprised.

"You looked so…so horribly sad. I thought maybe…" Tessy didn't finish.

Elphaba sighed heavily. She studied her hands for a moment, and then stared out at the morning sky. Finally, she answered, "I was sad. I am sad, but it has nothing to do with Adrian. This whole thing has dredged up memories of Fiyero and…"

Tessy waited for a long time, while Elphaba considered whether to continue. She finally took a deep breath and said, "Tessy, what do you think of when you hear the word _whore_?"

Tessy looked momentarily shocked, and then considered her answer, "I suppose…someone who chooses to have indiscriminate sex with a large number of people…"

"Tessy…what I said yesterday, about my time in the city before I met Fiyero…"

Tessy was very still in her seat, understanding that this topic was extraordinarily difficult for her friend.

"I lived with Hadrick in the City of Emeralds for about a year, and during that time, I was raped…two hundred and twelve times. He brought the men and took payment from them for a chance…with me. I could've run, but I stayed in his house, out of fear of starving, being caught in the rain, or worse…I endured it because I thought I had a greater purpose to serve…" Elphaba looked tormented.

"Oh Elphie…" Tessy's empathy for her friend was very real, and very potent. She reached over and carefully brushed a few loose strands of hair away from her friend's face.

"The real question is..." Elphaba continued, "does that make me a whore? Because perhaps I should have run…and I didn't…"

"No," Tessy answered softly, "How could you have known whether or not you'd be running into more of the same thing, somewhere else?"

Elphaba studied the sky, "That's what Fiyero told me, only a few weeks before he died…"

There was a moment of silence, when it seemed that Elphaba was fighting tears.

"It's okay to cry, Elphie…" Tessy offered.

Elphaba let two, individual tears roll down her cheeks. She quickly brushed them away as she continued, "It wasn't just a fling, Tessy. We were young, but it was more than just a brief, romantic interlude in my life. Fiyero came into my life at a time when I was calloused and bitter and terribly wounded. It wasn't just about sex. He let me see myself again, for who I was. He took away the title of Whore. And he let me cry, in a world that had never let me shed a tear for all that I endured."

They were both quiet for a moment, because Tessy realized there were no words that could make sense of her friend's suffering.

Elphaba took a deep breath. She reached forward and took Tessy's hands gently, "The reason I can tell you this, other than the fact that fourteen years have passed, is because I know you understand. I know you've been there, in your way…"

Tessy's eyes shone with her own tears, and it was obvious how deeply touched she was. She stood and pulled Elphaba to her feet as well. Without a word, she wrapped Elphaba in a long embrace. They stayed like that for a long time, like sisters, drawing strength from one another.

Their moment was finally broken, however, when Myra clumped onto the porch. She announced her presence with a loud clearing of her throat.

"I'm needin' to see Miss Elphaba."

Elphaba turned and raised an eyebrow, unsure what Myra could need this early in the morning.

"Come with me," was the only explanation Myra would offer.

Elphaba and Tessy followed her across the fields, quickly becoming breathless and wondering why they had not taken time to get the horses from the barn. When they arrived at Myra's house, they found a young man sitting on the porch, clutching a dog to his chest. It was a large breed, possibly a retriever with a little shepherd mixed in. The boy was not yet twenty, and he could barely hold the animal in his lap. The dog's breathing was shallow, and he trembled.

"Miss Elphaba, this is Matthew. He comes from the other side of town. He happened to hear me talkin' about how you've helped my horses, and he wondered if you'd take a look at his dog," Myra explained, indicating the suffering animal.

Elphaba was momentarily stunned, as no one else from town had asked her for anything up until this point. They seemed to be tolerating her presence, but none had so much as spoken.

The young man looked desperate, and he choked out, "Please? Ms. Spinnaker says you've got a knack for the animals…"

Elphaba gave a slight nod, conceding her help. She gestured for Matthew to bring the dog inside. Once in the house, she had him lay the animal on a blanket that Myra fetched from the closet. Elphaba knelt down and looked into the animal's eyes, trying to find the person inside.

"What happened to him?" she asked Matthew.

"He ran out in front of the wagon this morning, when my father was leaving to take the crops into town. At first, I couldn't wake him up. Thought he was dead, for sure. Now, he just lays there and shakes. Can't tell at all what's wrong with him..."

Elphaba turned to the dog and asked, "What's your name?"

_Samson, _was the animal's silent reply.

"Samson?" she looked up at Matthew for confirmation.

The young man's mouth dropped open and his eyes widened in shock. He nodded, obviously in disbelief that Elphaba could have heard the dog's name from the dog himself.

She did not have time for explanation. Elphaba turned her attention back to the animal, "Where are you hurt?" she asked.

_My legs, my head…_

Elphaba let her fingers rove carefully over the dog's abdomen, reaching into the depths of her knowledge and trying to recall all that she had spent the past several months studying. She had the anatomy of so many animals swimming through her mind, and it took extreme focus to remember what she was now feeling.

As she felt, she asked, "Does this hurt?"

_No…no…no, _was Samson's repeated reply.

When she reached his legs, he yelped in pain.

"I'll do this gently," Elphaba reassured as she ran her hands along the bones of Samson's front legs. They were clearly fractured in several places. She then moved to his head, feeling his skull for signs of fracture and looking for open wounds.

"Are you dizzy or nauseous? How is your vision?" Elphaba asked, hoping the animal understood the terms.

_A little sick feeling, but I can see clearly…_

Elphaba sat back onto her heels to think, and to assess how to proceed.

"Is he all right?" Matthew asked timidly.

"I'm going to set these bones in a splint, but this right one is going to have to be put back in place. It will hurt," Elphaba addressed Samson, as opposed to his owner.

The dog looked fearfully into Elphaba's eyes as Myra went off to retrieve some supplies from her medicine cabinet. She returned with gauze, cloth, and several straight sticks. After a few reassuring words, Elphaba carefully placed the splints and wrapped them tightly against the fractured bones. Samson yelped loudly when she pushed the large bone in his upper, right leg back into place. He made no attempt to run or bite, however, because he trusted the woman who could understand him.

After making sure the job had been done as thoroughly as possible, she offered Samson a mixture of herbs she'd found often calmed Nikola when he was most anxious.

The dog took a little, and Elphaba finally turned to address Matthew, "He should be all right, with a lot of rest. He needs to stay off of his legs for a few weeks and sleep as much as he can for the next few days. I think he barely escaped a serious head injury, and there might have been nothing I could do for him…"

The young man nodded earnestly and finally smiled a little, "Thank you," he took Elphaba's hand when she stood, "It would've killed me to lose him. Samson's been with me since I was barely a teenager."

Elphaba gave him a tiny smile, a little shocked that he had so nonchalantly taken her hand.

As Matthew pulled back, he took a lingering look at Elphaba's slender fingers, "Wow…you really are as green as grass…" he mused, but his expression was of awe and not disgust.

Elphaba nodded, choosing not to berate him. Age allowed her to see that his comment was made in the innocence of youth, and that he was by no means afraid of her. The gratitude on his face was enough to make her let his observation pass.

Myra and Tessy helped Matthew out the door, where he settled Samson into the small wagon in which he had pulled him over. With one more expression of his gratitude, he rode carefully away towards home.

Elphaba tried to cover her blush, as Myra and Tessy looked at her with pride.

"It's a gift," Myra observed, "and it's time you used it."

Over the next several weeks, Elphaba's popularity grew exponentially. As word of her ability to help animals in a way no one else could spread, people began to call on her, or bring their sick and injured animals to Mae and Wilbur's barn. Many of the visitors were skeptical and occasionally hostile once they'd gotten a close-up look at the woman who was 'green as grass'. However, she grit her teeth and helped their animals anyway, because they were what mattered most to her.

Elphaba began to develop a divided reputation. Some folks in Amber Plains began to look at her with a reverent awe, as though they were in the presence of a mystic, or some sort of other-worldly being. Others spat at her, and accused her of voodoo and other sorts of forbidden crafts. She refused to heed their idle threats and insults, however, since she knew that beneath their words was an undercurrent of fear. It was a universal flaw in mankind, she'd discovered, to fear what one does not understand.

Still, at the end of each day, Elphaba had Mae, Wilbur, Tessy, and Myra to boost her confidence, to silently hold her hand, to offer a hot meal and a safe place to rest. Having a home and a family made all the difference.

Mae had also begun wheedling Elphaba to attend church with them each week. Mae's faith in God was clearly a big part of her life, and even Tessy had conceded to going, with Adrian by her side. Yet so far, Elphaba had resisted. The façade of her father's faith had soured her quite thoroughly, and she still was not convinced she possessed an eternal soul. Still, Mae was persistent.

As the holiday of Christmas grew closer, they had a few dustings of snow that gave the landscape a shimmer, like a light coat of frosting on the barren and dormant landscape. On one crisp, dry evening, Elphaba sat with Mae on the porch, both wrapped in blankets, while Mae explained the significance of the holiday season.

"It's a nice sentiment, the idea of one man changing the world, but it's still wrapped in the premise that I believe in God, or a god…and I've never allowed myself that," Elphaba told Mae.

"Let me ask you this," Mae proposed, "How can you believe that you arrived here from another world, another universe if you will, and not believe there could be another world beyond this life? If there's more than one plane of existence while we're alive, why not when we're dead? If you can be green, and be allergic to water, why can't I exist in some form after death? Why is a soul so preposterous?"

Elphaba considered, "Perhaps it's not the idea of a soul in general, but the idea that someone such as me could possess one. I've always thought of myself as an aberration, or the aberration…"

Mae leaned closer, "I would certainly never call you an aberration. We all have eccentricities, but you bleed like the rest of us. You can feel and love and hurt, can't you?"

Elphaba nodded, supposing that much was true.

"Look," Mae started again softly, "Don't come to church because you have to have a religious epiphany. Just…come for me. It's been three years since my family has gone to church together. Mostly, I want to have everyone I love with me and to celebrate the holiday…as a family…"

Elphaba's heart wrenched a little, as she saw the tears in Mae's eyes. She knew, in that moment, that she would concede. She would sit through a religious ritual for Mae. It made her realize how much she had changed, and how much Mae meant to her now.

So a few weeks later, Elphaba accompanied Mae, Wilbur and Tessy to the one small, clapboard church house just outside of town. Adrian walked with Tessy, insisting on staying by her side the entire time. Tessy blushed a little at being fussed over.

As they neared the church, the striking difference between Elphaba and the other townsfolk seemed especially obvious. The other ladies had pulled out their nicest clothes, all warm pastels with lace and even some embroidery. There were wide brimmed hats sprinkled through the crowd, and even the children had on crisp knickers and new gingham dresses. The men had clearly taken the time to scrub their trousers clean. Their shoes were polished and their shirts laundered and mended.

Still, somehow, Elphaba stood out from them all. She had clearly hoped she might blend in, in her ebony dress with its full skirt and high collar. Her hair was washed and tightly wound into a knot. She wore a new pair of boots that had been given to her by a family whose young calf she'd tended to after a difficult birth. Somehow, Elphaba was exotic, and almost regal in her appearance. She'd put on just enough weight to soften her features, and instead of causing her to blend, her dark dress accented the brilliant color of her skin. Her eyes shone with life and light, because she had felt so purposeful in the last few weeks. Slightly taller than most women, her long legs carried her in a confident stride that had never been broken, despite her life's hardships.

As they approached the church, a hush fell, and the people turned to stare at Elphaba with a mix of awe, fear, admiration, and contempt. Although some had seen her, and some had had her personally tend to their animals, none of them had ever seen her in a public setting.

Elphaba pulled her dark shawl tighter around herself as she realized she was, once again, quite a spectacle. Mae reached over and wound her arm through Elphaba's as they climbed the steps to the old, weather-worn building. Just inside the door, they came upon the Pastor, who was busy greeting his Christmas Eve guests.

"Evening Mae, Wilbur," he said, shaking Wilbur's hand. The Pastor then turned and took in Elphaba, and behind her, Tessy and Adrian, "You know," he began hesitantly, "we've never had coloreds in the church before…"

Elphaba snapped to attention, her eyes narrowing at the use of the word 'coloreds'. However, she saw concern and perhaps a little fear, rather than hostility, in the Pastor's face.

"Reverend," Mae shot back, "there's a first for everything in this world. We make a generous contribution to this church every month, and our farm is the biggest in this town. I haven't ever used that for nothing, because I don't put much stock in pride. Today, I'm using it, though. Because today, my family's coming to church together, no matter what color they are."

The Reverend still looked slightly concerned, but he nodded his concession. Elphaba had never before seen or considered Mae and Wilbur's influence in their community, until now. She had a new respect for them, because they indeed worked hard for all they had.

Mae guided them all onto one of the long benches, her head held high as the other parishioners took their seats, some staring and pointing. Elphaba sat quietly, her eyes focused on her hands, as the others took in the mixed reaction of the congregation around them.

As the church filled, the other parishioners began to lose interest in Elphaba when they realized she was not going to chant spells or light the place on fire. She continued to sit with her head bowed slightly, studying her hands and floor beneath her. This was quite possibly the one place she never imagined her life would take her. She had crawled through some of the most secret, most hideous parts of the Emerald City. She had flown higher than some birds. She had even managed to traverse universes in her short life, yet sitting on a church pew was absolutely terrifying.

Swarming through her were a million feelings, of betrayal, of pretension and hypocrisy, of abuse and misuse of power, of simply feeling she was on the wrong side of the great crevasse religion had drawn between good and evil. Were it not for Mae, and how much she'd grown to love her, Elphaba would have run from the church house.

Instead, she studied the small structure around her. It was entirely built of wood, most likely by hand. The woodwork was well done, with a few carvings of religious figures at the front. A small railing separated the pulpit area from the floor, and the spindles also looked hand-carved. She couldn't help but wonder about the people who'd given their time and energies to create a place designated for worship. She couldn't knock their dedication, because it was clear that in this town, free time was hard to come by.

After what felt like an eternity, the graying pastor brought the service to order. After welcoming the crowd, he turned the floor over to a small choir who provided a few Holiday songs and a recreation of the story of Christmas. The children played the parts in the play, and Elphaba couldn't help but see the pride in the eyes of their parents.

As the service moved along, she felt her nerves ease a little. The pastor's sermon focused on new life and rebirth, and she could see families take hands in gratitude for a good harvest this year. This religion was somewhat different from the constant condemnation of sin she had experienced year after year with her father. She could see that, in spite of their ignorance and the occasional hostility it birthed, these were mostly good people. They struggled to create a good life from what the land provided them.

The service concluded with a few songs sung from the memories of the congregants and the pastor. The people raised their voices and sang with a joy and with a passion that belied their struggles. They sang of Christmas and thanksgiving, and Elphaba couldn't help but be mesmerized by their unified voices.

The last song had a haunting melody, and talked of trials, struggles, and grace. It was an easy melody line, and each verse repeated the same chords, over and over. Elphaba let her eyes close and listened, and then easily picked the melody out to sing along. She barely whispered at first, but slowly allowed herself a little more volume. She hadn't realized how much she missed singing. It had always been cathartic, allowing her to express things for which she did not have words. Now, in this place, it felt good.

With her eyes closed, Elphaba felt Mae take her hand in reassurance. The congregation repeated the song, and Elphaba sang from her heart. For once in her life, she had experienced true mercy and grace. In both Mae and Tessy, she had found people who understood how to love her in spite of the flawed person she was. They gave out grace in heaping measures. If ever Elphaba had considered believing in God, it would have been the God she saw in them. In this moment, with Mae holding her hand, she was the closest she'd ever felt to glimpsing eternity. Elphaba's poured her soul into the next verse.

_Through many dangers, toils and snares  
I have already come;  
'Tis Grace that brought me safe thus far  
and Grace will lead me home._

As she went to start the next verse, Elphaba realized it was eerily quiet around her. She opened her eyes and realized the rest of the room had fallen silent. All around her, the people stood still, looking shocked and amazed. Elphaba suddenly flushed and started to bolt towards the door. Mae's grip on her hand stopped her, however. She looked into Mae's eyes and saw tears shimmering there.

The pastor stepped forward and, out of a need to fill the silence, said, "Well that was absolutely beautiful…"

"Ain't heard singin' that beautiful since Miss Anna Margaret died," another voice rang out from the crowd.

Elphaba could stand the stares no longer. She pulled loose of Mae's hand and bolted out into the darkness. She took deep breaths of cold, clean air as her eyes adjusted to the dim light pouring from the church windows. From outside, she could hear the sounds of the pastor dismissing the service and wishing everyone a good Holiday. After a few moments, Mae and the others joined her on the lawn.

Elphaba started to bolt across the field towards the wagon, when Mae stopped her, "Elphaba, you didn't do anything wrong. There's just not that much of that kind of…talent…around here…"

Elphaba couldn't answer. She wanted to flee too badly. She turned again to run and nearly ran over a small child, who looked about seven. The little girl took Elphaba's hand and looked up into her face.

"You sing like an angel," the little girl whispered, her eyes bright with wonder.

Elphaba stopped just long enough to offer the little girl a thankful smile. Then, she cut across the dry, grassy field to the wagon, where she waited anxiously for the others to take her home.

Back at the farm, they all sensed Elphaba's need to be left alone. They each wished each other goodnight, and went quietly to their rooms. Just before she could climb into her bed, however, Wilbur appeared in Elphaba's doorway.

"Miss Elphaba?" he asked quietly, not usually one to start conversation.

Elphaba was startled, and then looked up at him questioningly.

"What they said at church…it's true. We haven't heard singin' like that since we lost Anna Margaret…"

"I'm sorry then," Elphaba whispered, "for dredging up pain for you."

"It's not that. My memories of my daughter are good, and I have a measure of peace. But…I just don't understand how it's possible…how can there be so many similarities?" Wilbur seemed to be halfway asking himself. He shook his head in disbelief.

Elphaba sighed heavily and finally answered, "Wilbur, if I had an explanation for even some of the things in my life that make no sense, perhaps I would have a measure of peace. Or then maybe…peace doesn't come from explanation…" she was suddenly surprised at her own words.

Wilbur looked thoughtful for a moment, and then came forward slowly. Very delicately, he kissed her forehead.

Elphaba was still frozen in surprise when he strode back out the door and disappeared.

The following morning, they all gathered downstairs to celebrate the Christmas. It was an altogether pleasant morning, with the exchange of a few meaningful gifts and a good meal prepared by Mae. Myra even made an appearance, at the urging of both Elphaba and Mae. She came with one small gift, wrapped plainly, for Elphaba.

Upon opening it, Elphaba discovered a two leather bound books. The first was filled with Myra's scratchy handwriting. The second was blank. Elphaba thanked her, but was somewhat perplexed.

Later, when Elphaba had escaped to the barn to brush Jasper, Myra appeared to explain.

"It's my journal," Myra threw out as a greeting.

Elphaba raised an eyebrow.

"The book is my journal. I've been fillin' it up recently. Something someone told me to do a long time ago. Told me it would help me, and maybe help someone else. I have to say, it's been good to put it all on paper, get it out. I thought maybe you could do the same…" Myra stumbled over her explanation.

Elphaba nodded her agreement, somehow more willing to try when someone like Myra asked.

"Your singin' last night was beautiful…" Myra then offered, looking somewhat uncertain in giving a compliment.

Elphaba turned away for a moment, embarrassed. Still, she said, "Thank you."

"Would you sing somethin' else? For me? It sure lifts the spirit, to hear a beautiful voice…"

Elphaba started to protest, but Myra looked so genuine, her eyes pleading. She was asking out of a true desire, without pretension or judgment. Someone like Myra didn't have hidden motives. She loved or she hated. She had met Elphaba with hate, and now loved her just as strongly.

So Elphaba agreed, because Myra was so convincing, and because deep inside, she wanted to sing. After a few moments' consideration, she released a haunting tune, pulled from poems, lyrics, and melodies she'd heard or read. It was in no small part influenced by her surroundings, and her Fiyero.

_You'll remember me when the west wind moves  
Upon the fields of barley  
You'll forget the sun in his jealous sky  
As we walk in fields of gold_

_So she took her love  
For to gaze awhile  
Upon the fields of barley  
In his arms she fell as her hair came down  
Among the fields of gold_

_Will you stay with me, will you be my love  
Among the fields of barley?  
We'll forget the sun in his jealous sky  
As we lie in fields of gold_

_See the west wind move like a lover so  
Upon the fields of barley  
Feel her body rise when you kiss her mouth  
Among the fields of gold  
I never made promises lightly  
And there have been some that I've broken  
But I swear in the days still left  
We'll walk in fields of gold  
We'll walk in fields of gold_

When Elphaba finished, there was a palpable silence as Myra took in the song, "It seems you have another gift," she finally said.

Elphaba tried to go back to brushing Jasper.

"And they're right, you do sing like Anna Margaret. Most beautiful voice we had around here for many years," Myra concluded, not unkindly.

Elphaba had no answer, and she was increasingly frustrated. It was a compliment, she knew, but the similarities between her and Mae's daughter had begun to nag at her. She could not imagine how such a coincidence was possible. Unless it wasn't a coincidence.

Fiyero's strength was failing. He could feel it, after weeks of riding the open plains. He had begun to worry that his fatigue was due to illness, however. It wouldn't be surprising, after having spent countless nights asleep outside and eating whatever he could find. Water was not always easy to come by, and he knew he'd taken risks in drinking water that had not been boiled.

Perhaps because of this uneasy feeling of ill-health, and a subconscious desire not to die on the side of a dirt road, he made his way back towards Emily and Henry's farm. Their home was significantly closer than White Springs, and he certainly didn't want to face his family yet if he was ill.

Two days later, when he arrived at the doorstep of the small farmhouse, Fiyero could barely walk. Emily answered his feeble knock, and was shocked at his appearance. She took him in, and images began to grow fuzzy as Fiyero realized his fever must be spiking. The last thing he remembered before falling into a feverish delirium was Emily's worried face as she muttered an ominous word.

_Typhoid._

Then the world was black.


	20. Chapter 20: A Time to Give Up

**Chapter 20: A Time to Give Up**

Emily and Henry gave Fiyero the small room just off the kitchen. It had originally been designed for storage, but they were able to fit a small bed and a little table into it. He fell into a state of semi-consciousness, as his fever spiked to the point that his skin would melt snow within just a few moments. Emily packed cloths with snow from the yard and covered his head and chest, trying to abate the raging fever. Fiyero would occasionally take water from a small cup before slipping back into the dark shroud of illness.

"Aunt Em, do you think he'll live?" Dorothy asked after a few days, her eyes wide with concern. Dorothy was no stranger to death.

Emily rubbed her brow and sighed. "I don't know, child," she answered, "Typhoid ran through our town last year, and left three dead. That's more than it sounds, in a small town like this…"

"I remember you and Uncle Henry had it last year. It was awful…" Dorothy said quietly.

Emily nodded, "You had it when you were a toddler. Scared us all something fierce."

"I suppose I don't remember," Dorothy added softly.

After a moment, Emily finally added, "If he makes it through the fever, he has a good chance. We'll just have to wait it out…"

Dorothy nodded and peered through the door to where Fiyero lay, breathing shallowly and occasionally mumbling to himself.

For Fiyero, the days were a blur of dreams that melded into bits of consciousness and then became dreams again. Visions of his childhood, his parents, and his new life in Kansas flitted across his closed eyelids. Memories of Elphaba swirled through him as well, occasionally becoming visions of her living somewhere in the Great Plains, just out of his reach. Every so often, his mind would swirl back to the corn exchange. Elphaba filled those memories, her body alive and fiery hot to his touch. Then, the heat of her skin melded into the heat of his own body, and he would momentarily awaken, gasping. It was perhaps these visions that kept him breathing, kept him struggling to wake and drink. In his weakest moments, when the pain was unbearable, the visions of his Fae made him take yet another breath.

Dorothy seemed to mature beyond her years as she helped tend to their desperately ill houseguest. Already on the verge of womanhood, she seemed to step up beyond her fantasies and take a sincere interest in the well-being of Fiyero. Perhaps, it was because he had taken her seriously. He had listened without judgment, and although he had not agreed that her stories were true, he seemed to be open to the idea that there was more to the world than most people believed. It impacted Dorothy, to be treated like more than a silly child.

The times when Fiyero was still and quiet, Dorothy had taken to reading near him. One sunny, yet frigid, afternoon, Dorothy had come across an old, leather-bound book in the trunk of dusty volumes her aunt kept. It was unlabeled, and she was surprised to find it contained pages and pages and looping script. She started reading, and discovered it was a diary kept by her maternal grandmother, Madeleine.

Dorothy passed the idle, winter hours by struggling her way through the difficult handwriting, slowly uncovering the story of the grandmother she had never known. She had been told a few stories by her mother when she was very small, and she had an overall feeling that her grandmother had been a loving, yet mysterious woman. Her aunt and uncle rarely spoke about her, only implying on a few occasions that her grandfather had not been a very upstanding citizen. She had assumed he'd simply abandoned his wife, her grandmother. The diary, however, told a very different story.

Madeleine's diary painted her as a vibrant, passionate young woman who had hopes of working as a journalist. The first pages talked of her schooling and working as an intern at a local newspaper. Judging by her diary, she was a skilled and creative writer. The story took a dramatic turn when she met a young man who seemed to appear from nowhere. It was clear, even to someone as young as Dorothy, that Madeleine fell completely, senselessly in love. This young lover introduced her to a world of late nights, long travel, and experimenting with liquor. There were parts of the story that made Dorothy blush and consider returning the diary to the trunk. She didn't, though, because there was something compelling about her grandmother's energy and personality that kept her reading.

Madeleine had been no fading flower or delicate beauty. She was rough, determined, driven, and epically devoted to what mattered to her. She had clearly thrown convention to the wind, shocking her parents and her community by traveling alone with a man who was not her husband. She working tirelessly at her career, wanting to break her way into the male-dominated world of journalism at a time when her culture wanted her to go home and have babies.

Dorothy became more and more amazed as she worked her way through the diary. She considered asking Aunt Em about it on a few occasions, but she knew her aunt would mostly likely take the book. She would be chastised for reading something inappropriate for her age, she feared. Aunt Em and Uncle Henry had very little time for frivolous things like diaries and romance. Their lives were difficult and Dorothy knew they worked hard to provide for her.

As she sat with Fiyero, she began to wish desperately that he would be well, and awaken. She knew it was most likely inappropriate, to want to talk with a grown man, but for some reason she felt he would understand. In the short time she'd known him, Fiyero had shown himself to be the type of person who would understand unconventionality. She felt like he might be able to relate to her nomadic grandmother who had such a fire for life. In the least, he might understand Dorothy's love for stories, her addiction to fantasy. Perhaps he would escape with her, talk with her and help her remember this grandmother who'd died before Dorothy knew her.

So Dorothy prayed, in her own way, for Fiyero's wellness.

In the quiet days after Christmas, Elphaba felt as though the world slowed down. The first heavy snow fell, blanketing the plains in a cloak of stillness. The sky remained a muted gray, and the sun struggled to break through the pervasive clouds.

On one of these faceless, winter days, Mae asked Elphaba to follow her outside after breakfast. They left Wilbur with the dishes, which was unusual on a working farm, where every season had its share of hard labor. Elphaba followed the older woman curiously.

Mae led her to the barn, where the horses munched on fresh hay and flicked their tails under their thick winter blankets. In the back of the building, Mae slowly eased open the door to what had been on old storage room. Before Mae and Wilbur had expanded the barn, it had been used to store hay and riding gear for the horses. Now, with a new hay loft and well-equipped room near the front for tack and supplies, this room had been boarded closed for some time. When Mae opened the door, however, the space had been transformed.

It took Elphaba a moment to register what she was seeing. The storage area had been thoroughly cleaned and refitted with several sturdy tables. New shelves filled one wall, and were stocked with vials, bottles and containers. Books filled another wall, and Elphaba recognized several of them as ones she had kept stacked on the dresser in her room. It was a place made for a veterinarian.

Elphaba clearly understood what Mae and Wilbur had done for her. She stood in awe at the number of books and the variety of supplies they had managed to acquire. It was overwhelming, to be given such a gift, and to know how much faith in her they must have to create something like this.

"How did you ever…?" Elphaba couldn't finish the sentence.

"Our farm does well," Mae's eyes crinkled in a smile, "and we've never had much of anything to spend money on, until now. The difficult part was finding all the medications and such. I had to write to a veterinary school in Pennsylvania. You'll also be happy to know, there's a trader who comes through this area on the train every so often. He supplies the most up to date tonics for both humans and animals. This year he's peddling a concoction he claims can ease the suffering from typhoid. Although, that'd be a miracle, in my opinion…"

"So this," Elphaba gestured around her, "is meant to be mine?"

Mae nodded, looking hopeful, "This farm is your home, as much as it is mine and Wilbur's, even Tessy's if she wants. This is what you love, what you were meant to do. I want you to belong here, to flourish here. It's time you weren't simply a passing stranger. You can plant yourself here. You can do a world of good…"

Elphaba was overwhelmed. Mae never ceased to amaze her, with her generosity. And Elphaba wanted this. She wanted it in a way that made her ache inside. She wanted to immediately agree and dive into the crisp books that begged to be read. However, she knew there was still one great, unavoidable truth she had to face. To plant herself here meant to finally give up her desperate search for Fiyero. In order to be all Mae believed she could be, she would have to swallow the bitterness of his loss and accept that she was powerless to ever find him on her own.

Mae saw the struggle within in her and finally asked, "Can you do this? Can you be just...Elphaba?"

She took a deep breath, "I don't know, Mae. I've never been just…Elphaba. I've been Fabala and Elphie and Fae, Auntie Witch and even the great Wicked Witch. I've been a symbol and a tool…I just don't know…"

Mae reached over and took her hand, "If it's failure you're afraid of, we'll be right here, believing in you."

Elphaba considered for a moment, and then turned to wrap Mae in a hug, of her own initiation. She was surprised at herself, at the tenderness and strength she felt. Mae then left her alone, to pour over her books and decide whether she was willing to move forward, to be Elphaba, nothing more, and nothing less.

For Fiyero, it was the times he tumbled into consciousness were the most unbearable. He gasped for breath and writhed in agony against the incredible pain in his abdomen. It felt as though his insides wanted to tear themselves free of his body. The sheets were constantly soaked with cold sweat, in spite of Emily's best efforts at changing and laundering them. There were moments he wished, even begged, for death to hurry and claim him. Surely, there was no way he would survive this torment. He could only hope to die sooner and ease the pain. It could have been days, weeks, months even, that he had lain on this bed. Time had faded into nothingness. Fiyero felt as though he'd fallen into place where there was only sickness, and nothing more. He closed his eyes and struggled for sleep, finally falling once again into a feverish stupor.

Emily appeared at the edge of his consciousness at some point, wielding a vile of some sort of tonic. She forced it into him, past his dry and cracked lips. She followed it with some sort of bitter concoction that sent him swirling into darkness. It was, at least, relief. She did this at some sort of regular interval.

He'd had an unknown number of doses from the vial when he began to feel incredibly calm. His thoughts became blurry, muted even, and the pain faded into the background. Fiyero felt as though he was falling into a soft, bright place. The feeling of the sweat and the searing dryness of his throat fell away as he let this new place hold him. If it was death, so be it. Death was welcome. It was out of his hands now.

_Come what may, and hell to pay…_

Elphaba's words to Galinda came back to him just then, odd as it seemed. He only hoped hell was not to follow.


	21. Chapter 21: A Time to Be Silent

**Chapter 21: A Time to Be Silent**

They left a lot of things unspoken, as Elphaba spent hours in her new space pouring over books and tending to animals. She never outright said it, but they all understood that she had embraced a new future. Mae knew it terrified her, accepting the idea that she might never find Fiyero. However, Elphaba was becoming someone knew, or perhaps, just blossoming into the person she'd been all along. People came, even on the coldest of days, needing help with their sick, dying, or even just uncooperative, animals. As word of her skill spread, she found herself trekking out to other farms on occasion, doing the best she could as she honed her skill.

Elphaba was always quite upfront with folks about her lack of any official credentials in veterinary medicine. She had learned from Mae that there was an excellent school across the country, in Philadelphia. Mae felt certain they would accept her, if she wanted to pursue an education. However, for the moment, most of the people accepted Elphaba's help for what it was. They recognized that she had a special gift, an ability to understand and diagnose problems that were beyond the reach of most people.

So, in many ways, Elphaba's life was full. She knew she was doing something that mattered, something that made a difference in the lives of the most misunderstood creatures in this world. It was cathartic and healing, as though she was compensating for other wrongs she'd done. Still, there was a hollow place within her.

At times it seemed quite illogical, that a relationship that had encompassed perhaps four months in her life should affect her so deeply, and leave her so wounded. All rational thought told her that her time with Fiyero had been but a fancy of her youth. They hadn't even made any great commitment to one another before he had died. She'd never even known if he would have chosen her over Sarima, had he been confronted with the choice. How deep and lasting was love born in youth? Why had such a short-lived, passion-fueled relationship haunted her so deeply? Both were questions she'd begun to ask frequently. She'd even gone so far as to pose the question of whether she could love another man. Perhaps, somewhere in this new world, was someone else who could melt her heart and fill the loneliness there. It was frightening, yet it was a question she was forced to ask if she truly planned to move forward with her life. Thinking about it all often made her head hurt, as she huddled under her quilts during the dark, cold, winter nights.

At the beginning of February, Tessy and Adrian left for another trip to Boston. Adrian had more business to conduct there, and Tessy was more than happy to accompany him this time.

Mae hinted at what she thought their true motives were over dinner one night, shortly after their departure, "They have very different standards in Boston," Mae mused, "Interracial marriage is not illegal there, and certainly not as controversial…"

Elphaba had stopped eating then, feeling something between nausea and excitement in her stomach. She was happy for Tessy, she decided later. If getting married was indeed why Tessy had agreed to travel with Adrian, she hoped they would be very happy. However, it was hard, to let go of Tessy a little and let her have what Elphaba couldn't.

Sure enough, when the couple returned nearly a month later, both wore simple gold bands on their left hands. They giddily told the story of going to the courthouse to make their marriage legal as soon as they had arrived in Boston. They laughed over the story of purchasing the rings from a street vendor.

Adrian wasted no time in accepting Mae's offer that he move into the room with Tessy. The large farmhouse was certainly more comfortable than the small room he'd rented in town. Elphaba also suspected Mae was overjoyed at the way her house had suddenly become full.

Elphaba was happy for them, because she truly believed Tessy deserved her full measure of happiness.

_She deserves it, _she told herself, _pressed down, shaken together and running over,_ as Mae would have said, quoting her ever-present Bible.

Still, at night when the thin walls could not muffle the sound of squeaking bedsprings and the muted sounds of contented lovers, Elphaba was overcome with emotion. She was too old for girlish embarrassment. Even shock and jealousy were beyond her at this point. She was a woman with a stark understanding of life and its pleasures and pains. What she felt was more of an ache, a deep, abiding sensation of loneliness. Born out of her mother's fiery passion and desperate need for touch, she seemed to have inherited that restless spirit that wanted someone by her side. Elphaba often cursed the feeling, wanting to be content simply with herself. Other times, she mourned the loss of her youth, not sure that she was young enough to ever find love again.

So she hung in a strange limbo between longing and contentment, between happiness and desperation. Like the frozen world around her, she was just existing, moving neither forward nor backward. It felt as though she were waiting, waiting for change, for her heart to move on, for her work to be enough.

She often wished desperately that she could throw out her memories, casting them into a great sea of forgetfulness. If she could throw out the past, she could start anew and carve out a new, less haunted life. Yet life afforded no such luxury. The cold, colorless days continued to come in succession, and Elphaba was powerless to stop them.

Across the Great Plains, Fiyero's condition hovered on the cusp of death. Dorothy could see the concern on her aunt's face as Emily cleaned bed linens and struggled desperately to force their guest to drink water. Fiyero's typically dark skin was becoming a grayish yellow, as his organs struggled to function in spite of the raging infection. His breathing was shallow and his heartbeat far too rapid.

Dorothy was awakened one morning at dawn as Emily packed a small satchel, "The doctor from the next town says there's a train that comes through Amber Plains every few weeks with peddlers from up north. There's a chance one of them might have something we ain't tried to help this man…" Emily let her voice trail off, not wanting to say what would happen if such a peddler did not exist.

Dorothy swallowed hard as she watched Uncle Henry saddle one of the horses and attach the satchel Emily handed him. They held each other in a long goodbye, knowing travel could be hard on the plains in the cold and snow of winter. With that, Henry set off, promising to return as soon as possible. With that, Emily and Dorothy were left with the task of seeing to the farm and tending to their desperately ill guest.

Dorothy finished her grandmother's diary a few days later. It ended shortly after her grandmother's mysterious lover suddenly disappeared. It was clear that she had been devastated. She wrote of returning home, pregnant and confused. Madeleine had confronted her lover with her pregnancy, and the news had been met with happy trepidation. Then, a few days later, her young man disappeared. He left no word, no letter, and had clearly never returned. It was terribly sad, Dorothy felt, knowing her grandmother had lived the rest of her life alone, raising the daughter who would become Dorothy's mother. As young as she was, Dorothy still wondered what could have made someone abandon a young woman with a child. What type of person was that, and where did he go?

She was agonizing over that question when Uncle Henry returned more than a week later. He bore with him a small satchel of bottles and powders.

"This one here is somethin' new. Supposed to clear typhoid out of the system in a few days. Can't imagine there's much truth to that, seeing what I've seen of typhoid, but something's better than nothing," Henry explained, handing each of the bottles and packets to Emily.

Yet somehow, beyond all likelihood, the tonic worked. Fiyero's fever gradually subsided and his color became closer to normal. He began to float into consciousness, seeing moving shapes above and around him as he tried to focus. Finally, one morning, he was able to clearly see the girl watching over him. It was her, the young girl named Dorothy, looking at him with wide, concerned eyes. Fiyero smiled at her, just slightly, and she looked surprised before running away.

"Aunt Em!" he heard her call, "Aunt Em! He looked at me! He's awake!"

The woman Fiyero remembered as Emily came scurrying into the room, wiping her hands on a towel. "Well I'll be…" she whispered, feeling his forehead and studying his face, "Can you hear me?" she asked.

Fiyero could only nod, swallowing over his parched throat.

"Well I'll be…" Emily continued to mutter as she fetched some water.

As Fiyero became more alert over the next several days, he noticed that Dorothy was somewhat of a fixture in his room. She often stared at him with wide, searching eyes, when she wasn't buried in a thick book.

One morning, when he'd finally been able to sit up and take a little broth, he addressed the young girl, "It must be a good book," he offered.

Dorothy looked surprised that he had spoken, and then said, "It's my grandmother's diary."

"She must have been a fascinating person," he concluded.

"She was," Dorothy did not hesitate, "her life was different than anyone else I've known. Although, I can't say I've known that many people…"

Fiyero smiled a little, at the child's logic, "What made her so different?" he asked.

Dorothy looked thoughtful for a moment, "Her name was Madeleine. She was a writer who ran away from home to chase her dreams. And to be with this man she loved. She had so many great adventures, traveling all over the country. She lived in California and Texas and even Tennessee. She wrote books that she sold to little stores across the country. I would love to read one, if I ever came across one…"

"She sounds like a very free spirit," Fiyero commented.

"I suppose," Dorothy agreed, "and she was in love. I know I'm really too young for such things, but it's obvious. I suppose I should be upset, that she wasn't married…"

Fiyero chose his words carefully, remembering he was talking to a twelve year-old, "Maybe love was enough for her. Things sometimes get more complicated when you get older. Sometimes we have to break the rules when we don't understand them. You just have to be old enough to accept the consequences, good or bad, of breaking the rules."

Dorothy studied him carefully, "Have you ever broken the rules?" she asked.

Fiyero did not answer right away. He didn't want to encourage disrespect in a child, but clearly Dorothy had lived a hard life. She seemed to be searching for confirmation that she could be more than just a farm girl for the rest of her life, more than she was looking for permission to do something wrong, "I suppose I have, when the rules were cruel or unfairly created. It's our responsibility to challenge things we see are wrong or unjust. And everyone should have a chance at happiness, no matter who they are. Clearly, your grandmother wanted something different than what life expected of her. I don't judge her for the choices she made. She obviously lived with the consequences..."

Dorothy looked thoughtful.

"What was her lover's name?" Fiyero asked, out of his own curiosity.

Dorothy flipped the pages of the book, unsure if she remembered correctly, "Um…Ozzie, she says. Short for Oscar," she finally answered.

Fiyero was turning the name over in his mind, trying to remember why it seemed significant, when Emily entered the room.

"Don't you go talking our guest into exhaustion," she ordered Dorothy, "he needs his rest to keep his recovery going."

"I don't mind," Fiyero argued softly, "it's been a while since I've spoken with anyone."

Emily smiled a little, "You gave us a might good scare. You've been here a good month now. Never saw someone fight so hard against typhoid. Suppose it really wasn't your time…"

"I'm grateful for all you've done," Fiyero added.

"I just did what any decent person should," Emily put him off, "It was Henry who rode all the way to Amber Plains to meet the train, though. Those peddlers have some pretty amazing tonics nowadays."

"Did I hear my name?" Henry asked, coming into the room then.

"I was just thanking Emily for all you've done," Fiyero said again.

"Well, can't have someone die on my watch in my house, if I can help it. Although I've got to say, that tonic must've been some miracle. Never seen anyone survive typhoid that bad before. That gypsy woman swore it was some newfangled thing from back east, discovered in one of those fancy schools of medicine."

"I'm certainly glad for it," Fiyero said.

"I've got to admit," Henry continued, "I thought she was out of her mind when I met with her, thought I might be wasting my hard-earned money. Especially when she swore up and down she'd peddled her merchandise to a green woman earlier that day. Sounded like one of Dorothy's tall tales. She kept going on and on about this woman. 'Green as fresh grass' she kept saying."

Fiyero felt his body freeze, and swore his heart skipped a beat. His eyes met Dorothy's, and he saw her eyes widen in shock and recognition.

_Elphaba._

He had never wanted to run so fast and so hard in his entire life. He desperately wanted to cast off the vestiges of illness, along with the blankets. He wanted to run to his Fae and shed the last fourteen years. Still, his recovery remained before him. He couldn't very well go riding off to Amber Plains until he could at least stand up. So he focused on recovery, working one day at a time, and focusing on the name of his new destination.

_Amber Plains, _Fiyero told himself over and over, cementing the location into his mind like coordinates for a mission. This time, he was determined to succeed, or die trying.


	22. Chapter 22: A Time for Rain

**Chapter 22: A Time for Rain**

It was early spring before Fiyero had the strength to travel. He had begged for Henry and Emily to accompany him home, so he could show his gratitude for all they had done for him. They had protested at first, but Emily finally gave in, deciding that getting out of their dusty little town might be good for Dorothy.

"She needs to see somethin' of the world, and you're too weak to be travelin' on your own," Emily had said.

Henry was needed on the farm, to see to the spring planting. So, on a crisp, spring morning, Fiyero, Emily, Dorothy, and a couple of Henry's trusted farmhands piled into the one small wagon and set off towards the east. Fiyero had decided to return home first, to be reunited with the family he had left nearly two years before. He owed it to them, he had decided, to let them know he was alive before he continued what had so far been a futile search for Elphaba. They most likely would not understand, when he told them about his need to find his green-skinned lover. Of that he was sure.

For the next two days, he rolled over in his mind what he would say to them when he arrived. How could he compensate for two years absence? Would they even still be there? Dorothy seemed to sense his fears, and occasionally she would sit closer to him and hold his hand. She was still young enough for Emily to overlook the gesture, and her motives were clearly pure as driven snow.

Dorothy had brought her grandmother's diary with her, and she would pour over certain parts of it when the ride was smooth enough. Fiyero thought he could see a flicker of the person she might become in her dark eyes. This was her first real venture into the world since her parents had passed away, and Madeleine's diary had seemed to create a hunger in her to be more than just the little farm girl she was. Perhaps Emily saw a bit of that, too, and wanted more for her great-niece than life had afforded for her and Henry.

Having noticed how Dorothy poured over the diary, Emily said one afternoon, "Madeleine was my sister. She would've wanted Dorothy to see the world…"

Fiyero just nodded, understanding.

They arrived in White Springs on the third day, dusty and travel weary. Fiyero was glad to see that the town had changed little, and was in good shape. In the west, there was always the chance that a town such as this could have been raided, or taken over by outlaws. As they rode down the main street, a few passerbies recognized Fiyero and waived in amazement. They clearly had not expected to ever see him again. He smiled kindly, and they continued on to the large farmstead that belonged to Fiyero's family.

As they rounded the curve in the road, he could see that the house was well-maintained. Fiyero breathed a sigh of relief that they all had survived the past two years. He could see Ma hanging up clothes on the back lawn, and a couple of the older boys putting in spring crops. It was also clear that Jeremiah had finished his house, as it stood proudly on a corner of the property.

When the wagon rattled to a stop in front of the house, Fiyero leapt down and stretched his aching body. Trudy rounded the side of the house, her expression first cautious, then frozen in disbelief.

"Yero?" she managed to choke out after several moments.

"It's me Ma…" he went to her and wrapped her in a warm embrace.

After a moment, she pulled back, "Lord sakes boy! We thought you was gone for sure! None of us ever imagined you'd come back after so long!"

"Well…" Fiyero struggled to answer.

Trudy didn't give him a chance to speak. She ran, hollering for the rest of the family to come to the house. Then, she ushered Fiyero and his small group of travelers inside. Refusing to take no for an answer, Trudy and the older girls began banging around in the kitchen. While they cooked, the other children piled onto Fiyero, hugging him and begging for stories of how he had escaped 'the law'. He put them off till dinner, introducing them to Dorothy and her family, instead. Finally, they all sat down together, and Jeremiah took his time saying grace, making sure to thank the Lord for the miraculous return of their Yero.

"Now you must tell us," Jeremiah pleaded, "how did you ever manage to make it back here alive?"

Fiyero took a long sip of water and considered, knowing it could be a long story. Carefully, he recounted having been arrested and drug around the countryside for some time, while the renegade band of marshals rounded up anyone else they saw as a criminal. He was sparing in his details of his incarceration in Dallas, not wanting to frighten the small children.

Trudy and the older children looked sympathetic when he described finally being released, almost too beaten down to make the trek home. He went on to describe meeting with a few other recently released inmates and deciding to go after the men who were terrorizing the plains. He told of how, with their few horses and whatever weapons they could procure, they searched the dusty landscape until they finally met up with the so-called marshals in a scrubby town somewhere in Oklahoma. Fiyero hedged around what exactly happened in the conflict, again, not wanting to upset the children.

Finally, he described trying to make his way home, and running into Dorothy. With some difficultly, he explained how she claimed to have seen Elphaba, and how he had subsequently searched for her. His bout with typhoid was the last chapter of the story, and they looked amazed that he had recovered from such a serious infection.

When he finished, Trudy crossed to his side of the table and embraced him, "We're just glad to have you back. What's done is done. It's a miracle you're here at all."

They took turns hugging him them, each expressing how much they missed him. It felt good, Fiyero realized, to be with the people who loved him once again. It almost made the last two years feel less crazed, less painful. It almost made the typhoid worth it. He could even see Dorothy and Emily smile a little for him, knowing they'd been part of this reunion.

When the youngest of the children wrapped their tiny arms around him and covered him in kisses, Molly looked especially thoughtful. She crossed the room to Trudy and pulled on her skirts. In a tiny voice, she asked, "Ma, when are you gonna tell Yero about the green lady who came to see him?"

The child had barely whispered, but Fiyero heard each word clearly. The look on his face caused the others around him to grow silent. He felt as though he'd been punched and lit on fire in the same moment. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dorothy's eyes widen, and Emily looked in shock from her niece, to Molly, and then back to Fiyero.

Trudy finally spoke up, "Why don't you take the youngins outside to play," she said to Ruth, who was thirteen.

The young girl complied, rounding up the youngest children and taking them to play in the yard. With only the oldest children remaining, Trudy looked to Dorothy and then Fiyero, and raised an eyebrow.

"She can stay," Fiyero managed to choke out, "She knows…"

Emily looked utterly confused, but she kept silent as Trudy took her place at the table again. She took a deep breath before saying anything.

"Last spring, we had an unexpected visit from a woman. Called herself Elphaba and, crazy as it makes me sound, she was green as fresh corn husks," Trudy gave the facts.

"She was just like the person you used to talk about when we were little," Jacob added thoughtfully. "She was mysterious and dark, and she clearly loved you. I took her to Dallas, to look for you, because she was so insistent. I still feel that's it's partially my fault, what happened to her there…"

Fiyero's face suddenly dropped, "What happened to her?"

"She's alive," Jacob quickly corrected himself, "but they beat her, as punishment for refusing the advances of one of the guards. I still feel like I should have done more to protect her…" he trailed off, his voice cracking a little.

"She's fine now," Trudy cut in, easing Fiyero's sudden, tumultuous fears, "She's been back since then, lookin' for you. She's searched most of this countryside. Nearly walked and rode herself sick. I sent her home before winter fully set in. No use in her killin' herself, I said. She'd ain't no good to any of us dead."

For several minutes, Fiyero was unable to form any words. His emotions reeled and his stomached knotted itself into an impossible state. Excitement and fear welled up within him, as he realized he finally had real confirmation that Elphaba was alive, and somehow in this world. He wanted to scream in rage that someone else had dared hurt her. He wanted to run to her. He was afraid too much time had passed. He felt so many things his head began to spin.

Finally, Trudy spoke again, "Yero, I'm certainly no scholar, but I know this Elphaba loves you. She'd die for you, that much is obvious. As to what else troubles her, she's clearly suffered a lot of heartbreak in her life. But that's the past. So where do we go now?"

The question hung there in the air, as Fiyero considered his options, and tried to absorb the magnitude of what he'd learned.

Out of the silence, Emily spoke up, "Are you saying…that this green witch Dorothy has rambled on about…is a real person?" she was amazed and skeptical in the same moment.

"She's not a witch," Jacob quickly interjected.

"Assuming you've not all lost your marbles, Dorothy called her a wicked witch. She was terrified of her. We all thought the child was just suffering from delusions, but clearly she believed she had reason to be afraid of this person…" Emily defended, uncertain about what all this meant.

Dorothy finally spoke up, "She didn't look the same, when I saw her here" her voice was small, "perhaps I was wrong, to assume she was wicked just because other people said so…" It was a profound statement, for one so young.

"I have to go to her. I love all of you, and I'll return, but I have to see her…" Fiyero managed to choke out, knowing his behavior was somewhat irrational.

"Of course you do," Trudy stated, taking Fiyero's hand. Her words were matter of fact, and calmed his nerves a little.

"I hope you'll come with me," Fiyero addressed Emily, "I'd like for Dorothy to see the real person behind her wicked witch…"

Emily looked troubled and wary for a moment, until Dorothy added, "Please Aunt Em? You said I was growing up, that I should see the world. I want to show you I'm not crazy…"

Unable to resist the plea of her niece, Emily only nodded her consent.

They set out the next morning, in the coolness of a day that would become ablaze with the warmth and color of spring by noontime. Fiyero, Emily, Dorothy and their two faithful farmhands hitched up the horses and loaded themselves into the wagon for another journey.

Fiyero hugged each member of his family goodbye, taking time to promise each of them that he would return quickly this time. He left unspoken the fact that he hoped Elphaba might be with him when he returned. His hopes were too fragile to vocalize.

So they set off towards the southeast. The steadily rising sun warmed their faces as they crossed the grassy landscape towards Amber Plains.

For Elphaba, springtime brought an endless parade of needs when it came to the animals of her community. It was birthing season, and new calves and colts and kittens were born nearly every day. Her ability to communicate with these creatures proved invaluable, as no one had been able to identify the exact struggles of animals' births before. Elphaba could know when something was wrong far before even the most experienced farmhand. Over the course of many crisp mornings and warm afternoons, she had brought an untold number of creatures into the world, and buried a few. She was most glad to provide comfort in those times, when the animal otherwise had no voice

The days had begun to grow longer again, and the threat of frost was replaced by the threat of the so-called twister. It was a weather phenomenon that was foreign to Elphaba, but was clearly very common on the plains of this land. Farmers who had worked the land their entire lives watched the sky carefully for the towering, flat-bottomed clouds that signaled the air was ripe for a twister. Mae had made sure her whole family knew where the storm cellar was, just in case.

Elphaba appreciated the warnings, but her focus was more on the fact that the changes in the weather meant she'd been in this place nearly a year. There were days that it seemed like a lifetime had passed since she'd left Oz, and others when she couldn't believe how fast the sands of time had run through her fingers.

She was changed, that much she knew. She understood what family meant, and how she had missed that in her growing up. She had discovered a new part of herself here, in this flat land of golden wheat and sunshine. She was making a difference, and even those who still looked down at her could not argue against that. For the first time in a long while, she had peace. Maybe not total happiness. Perhaps not everything she'd wanted from life. But there was peace.

Elphaba smiled a little, thinking of it one afternoon, and nearly fell over Bala as she came tearing towards the house from the fields. The cat had grown up over the past months, and was nearly beyond adolescence now. Her eyes were troubled as she looked up at Elphaba.

_Please come. Jay Jay's missing. He was gone all night, and he hardly leaves the barn…_

Elphaba listened carefully, and then followed Bala out into the fields. She knew what Jay Jay meant to the Bala. He was the oldest of the farm cats, and had been very fatherly towards Bala, who'd lost her mother so young and never knew her own father. Elphaba feared she knew what this meant, but kept quiet. This was a part of life Bala had to experience for herself.

They trekked silently through the fields, still flattened from the harvest the previous fall. Finally, at the edge of the farmland, just before the wild barley took over, they found him. He'd curled up just short of a tiny pond, where the cats liked to come and watch the fish. Bala sniffed and nudged at him, and soon realized he was dead. She looked up at Elphaba with sad eyes.

"It's the way of things," Elphaba said, having always found it easier to talk with animals, "He lived a long life, and he wanted to die here. He's at peace, and he died peacefully. It's a blessing, to go that way."

Bala nodded, understanding, yet still sad.

_I called him Papa…_

"I know…" Elphaba consoled.

After a few long, silent moments, Elphaba added, "We should bury him here. This is where he wanted to be."

Bala nodded and turned wordlessly back towards the farm. They went together, and Elphaba fetched a shovel while Bala found the other cats. They all followed her, a furry trail of orange and brown and gray and white. When they arrived once again at the pond, Elphaba stood silently while the cats spoke of their love and grief. She was still in awe of the fact that no one but her could hear this world of animal language. They had so much depth, so much love and so much to share. To simply assume them soulless and silent was a great tragedy. She was humbled to be experiencing this moment.

Finally, they let her dig a small grave and place Jay Jay's body carefully inside. She covered him, and then left the cats to grieve for their own. Elphaba headed out into the wild barley fields to think, always feeling very different and very alone when her gift afforded her moments such as these. She always needed time alone, because her heart was much softer than most anyone realized. She stood in the tall grains and stared towards the sky, lost in thought

Fiyero and the others arrived in Amber Plains after just two days travel. The journey had been uneventful, and he was beginning to fear that this might be too simple. How could he just walk into town and bump into Elphaba after fifteen years? How could he just find her sitting at the corner market or reading in the library? It was too easy, after fifteen years of grief.

On the trip, Fiyero had finally given in and told more of his story to Dorothy and her aunt. Emily looked at him in disbelief when he confessed to having come from some other world. She was also still very doubtful that this green woman existed. However, she seemed to understand that he loved this Elphaba, whoever she was.

Emily also appeared to be enjoying having an adventure for the first time in many years. She had clearly worked her hands to the bone on their farm since she was a young woman, and life had not given her much in the way of fun, imagination, or travel. If nothing else, Fiyero's bizarre story and his crazy search were making for a good break from her mundane life.

As they rolled through Amber Plains, Fiyero was impressed with the many stores and the well-kept streets. The library was also quite impressive. This was clearly a railroad town, where folks stopped over or brought their goods to sell via the rail line.

They all stopped and let the horses munch on hay at the market, in order to ask directions. While Dorothy looked at little trinkets in the general store, Fiyero approached the clerk there, nervous and afraid of being laughed at once again.

"Pardon me," he started carefully, "I'm traveling from White Springs, and I'm afraid I have a bit of an odd question for you…"

The woman looked cautiously at him.

"By any chance is there a woman in town by the name of Elphaba Thropp? Or Elphie? Perhaps even Fae? She's tall, with dark hair. And…she's green," Fiyero waited for laughter.

"Have to admit," the woman smirked a little, "you're the first out of towner that's ever asked me that. Fact is, there is indeed a woman in town that's as green as grass. Just know her as Elphaba. Some calls her the animal doctor, even the animal whisperer. She helped my cow birth her first calf this spring. She's part of the Proctor household now, I suppose. Mae and Wilbur surely take in all kinds…"

Fiyero stood, dumbfounded and unable to move. His heart jumped and his stomach twisted. His mouth was suddenly very dry.

_How is this possible? How can it be possible that after this long, in this place, somehow I've found her?_ his thoughts ran rampant and he tried to form another sentence.

"Where is the Proctor house?" he finally choked out.

"Just outside of town, down the road about three miles and then towards the left. Can't it miss it. Big ole farmhouse," the woman instructed.

Fiyero sputtered out a thank you and headed back towards the wagon. He herded up Dorothy and Emily from their shopping and gave directions as to their destination to one of the farmhands. Dorothy sensed Fiyero's agitation as they rode out of town.

"Are you scared?" she asked in a small voice.

"No, I suppose I'm nervous. Fifteen years is a long time…"

Dorothy nodded, "Longer than I've been alive…"

Fiyero silently agreed, staring towards the sky. It looked as though a storm might be brewing, and he hoped to reach the farm before the rain.

As Elphaba stood in the fields, the wind whipped up a little, and she could smell rain in the air. The clouds began to heap upon themselves, towering high in the distance as a storm gathered strength. It felt very much like the day she'd arrived here, the day she first realized she could stand in the rain.

She wasn't sure how long she stood there. In time, the wild barley began to dance riotously in the impending storm. The wind whipped her ivory summer dress around her calves, and her bare arms bristled at the sudden coolness in the air. The air was thick, palpable even, as thunder shook the sky in the distance.

Elphaba startled, as lightening forked through the blackening clouds. The earth smelled of rain, of fresh dirt, and weeds that grew unchecked amongst the grains. She was rooted, unable to move as nature swirled around her. She was at peace here. So she took in deep breaths of moist, spring air and stretched out her arms as the rain began to fall.

It came in huge, fat droplets that splashed off of Elphaba's body and pelted the ground. She closed her eyes and let it drench her hair and soak through to her body beneath the light dress. She knew that for most people, the thin straps of her dress would have been wildly inappropriate, leaving her arms exposed for men to gape at. But she was already a spectacle, already so different and revered or reviled that she could get away with breaking the rules. She figured, for them, she'd already broken all the rules of nature, so what not bend some social stigma as well?

In moments, Elphaba's hair was drenched and her dress clung to the elusive curves and sharp angles of her body. She was frozen, immovable, wholly one with the ground, the sky, and the rain.

When Fiyero arrived at the Proctor farm, Mae emerged from the house with a curious look on her face. She took in the strange group of travelers and raised an eyebrow. It was a look that was so very Elphaba that Fiyero thought for a moment he had found her long lost family. He shook it off as impossible.

"I'm looking for Elphaba," he blurted out, unable to bother with pleasantries.

"And you are?" Mae asked cautiously.

"Fiyero. Fiyero Tigelaar."

Mae froze, her expression full of disbelief.

"You're…you mean…but how did you ever?"

"It's a story that's too long for this moment. Please, is she here? Is she alive and somewhere close by? I'm afraid I'm at risk of insanity taking over if I don't have the answer!" Fiyero pleaded, knowing he sounded altogether unmasculine and embarrassingly desperate.

"She's in the fields," Wilbur spoke up then, coming from the barn.

"Go," Mae ordered, "We'll see to your family."

Fiyero didn't stop to correct her use of the word 'family'. He ran in the direction Wilbur had indicated, ignoring the impending storm and the fat drops of rain that began to fall.

When he finally came upon her, past the farm grounds in the wild barley fields, time seemed to freeze. He tried to blink away what he knew must be an apparition. Yet no amount of rubbing his eyes could erase the image of her, very real before him. Fiyero's heart leapt and his throat constricted as he realized it was her.

It was Elphaba, his beautiful Elphie-Fae. She was silhouetted against the stormy western sky, her body bathed in golden light as the rain poured over her. His breath caught, as he realized she was wet. The rain flowed over her from head to toe, making her emerald skin glisten and catch the light, refracting to create an otherworldly shimmer about her. Her dress gripped her body, wrapping itself around her thighs and revealing her figure beneath the soaked fabric. The glorious picture of seeing her free from the torment water had caused her was enough to bring tears to his eyes.

And then she saw him.

Fiyero could see the shock and disbelief overwhelm her as she took him in. He saw her blink and turn away, as though she couldn't bear for her eyes to play such a cruel trick on her. He ran to her, unable to stand the space between them any longer.

It had been so long, so much had been lost and gained, so many things irrevocably changed, yet he melded into her, as though they had never been apart. He took her face in his hands as he pressed his body close to hers. Unable to speak, he ran his hands over her cheeks, studying the ways she had changed over so many years. She was older, sharper, more weathered and expressive, if that was possible. A long scar ran over her left cheek, hinting at the trauma she had endured. Yet she was Elphie, undoubtedly.

On instinct, he immediately pulled the pin from her hair and watched it spill around her. The water made ebony streams out of it, as it spilled down her back and caught the last golden sunlight before the storm. Fiyero plunged his hands into it, clutching the rain-soaked tresses as he pulled her to him and kissed her.

At first, she did not respond. She appeared frozen from fear and disbelief.

All he could manage to choke out was, "Elphie…it's me…"

Elphaba twined her arms around his neck and kissed him fiercely then, tears pricking her eyes.

"Fiyero…" she whispered between kisses, "Fiyero…?" she pulled away just enough to study his eyes, trying to prove he was as real as he felt.

"I'm here…" he breathed into her ear as he pulled her to him again.

Elphaba tightened her grip on his shoulders, and lifted her body to wrap herself around his waist. As the slick, warm rain poured over them, she pulled him down onto the soft barley. She quickly freed him from his shirt as he loosened his trousers. Her dress was easily lifted to reveal her body beneath, and any thought of shame over her nakedness was lost as his body pressed so perfectly against hers.

He made love to her in the rain, their bodies moving in powerful rhythm as tears of joy spilled down Elphaba's cheeks. It was a beautiful thing, to be drenched in water and passion and the love of the only man who'd ever really known her. He held her long after the shaking of climax, and kissed her long and full on her mouth, watching her body rise with each kiss.

They lay there for a long time, as the rain lessened and the clouds parted against the sunset, bathing them in the brilliant blaze of the western sky. Elphaba did not speak, and Fiyero began to feel as though he owed it to her to say something.

"I've searched for you, everywhere. Ever since I realized you were here…" he started.

Elphaba silenced him with her hand, "Don't talk. I want to enjoy this, because when I wake up, my heart will break again."

Fiyero sat up, studying her as she lay in front of him, "Elphaba, you're not dreaming. This is real."

He said it softly, meaning for it to be a rhetorical, romantic argument, but she shook her head fiercely, "No. No it's not. It's never real. A thousand times over and it's never been real. I won't let myself think it. Please…just hold me…"

"Elphaba," Fiyero grew more alarmed, "I'm here. You're awake. Touch me, make love to me again, hit me even, but believe me…"

She sat up then, shaking her head vigorously and trembling a little, "No, no, no, please no! Just hold me and don't argue. I just can't wake up again. I cannot. I pretend to be strong but my heart cannot break like this again!"

Fiyero took her hands and realized they were trembling violently. She squeezed her eyes shut and he saw her color fade. She pulled her hands away and clutched at her temples. He straightened his clothes then, concern overwhelming him as he vividly remembered this scene from many years before.

"Elphaba please," he whispered, "calm down."

But it was of no use. Her emotions were too much, her mind overwhelmed. She pleaded with him a few more times and then gave in to one of her fits of paroxysm.

Fiyero felt as though he should have considered this. He should have remembered how volatile emotions could trigger this within her. He shouldn't have been so greedy and needy and allowed their reunion to be so overwhelming. He gathered her up in his arms, not sure if she realized in the moment what he was doing. He carried her carefully back through the fields to the farmhouse, seeing the immediate concern on everyone's face when he walked through the door. Dusk was falling, and Mae rushed to help him take Elphaba upstairs.

"What on earth happened?" she asked, fear in her voice.

"She's having one of her fits," Fiyero explained, "Paroxysm, they call it. She's had them since…since she was injured a long time ago. Has it never happened while she's been here?"

Mae shook her head, pulling out a clean nightdress and several blankets when they got to her room. When they finally got her somewhat settled, they both sat with her for some time as she continued to mumble to herself and tremble. When it seemed that the worst was over, they left her to fall into what would be a deep sleep.

After changing into dry clothes, Fiyero followed Mae down the stairs to where Dorothy, Emily, and Mae's family waited. He was certain the dinner conversation was going to be quite complicated.


	23. Chapter 23: A Time for Everything

**Chapter 23: A Time for Everything**

Mae wordlessly threw together what she could from the cupboards and then offered each of her guests a seat. Tessy, Adrian and Wilbur all took their places quietly, understanding that something significant was taking place. Emily's two farmhands, who'd been introduced as Samuel and William, agreed to take their dinner in the servants' quarters, where the other workers who stayed on with Mae and Wilbur ate. They assured Emily and Dorothy they were only a holler away, but also sensed there was business to attend to that did not pertain to them.

As Mae passed around biscuits and cured ham she'd been saving, she said, "I'm sorry it's not fresh, home cooking. I'll do better by you for breakfast, if you'll stay that long. I didn't expect company and Elphaba…well…" she looked towards the stairs and words escaped her.

Emily stilled looked shocked, her hands frozen in front of her as though she were afraid to eat, perhaps afraid to breath, "So…her name is Elphaba? Truly?"

"Yes," Mae answered quietly.

"And she hasn't…harmed you or frightened you at all?" Emily continued hesitantly.

"No," Mae answered quickly, her tone now cautious.

Dorothy looked up at Mae with wide eyes and said softly, "It's my fault she thinks that. I said she was just awful…I said she was wicked and terrible," the child looked as though she might cry, "but only because she frightened me terribly…"

Tessy spoke up then, "So, where she comes from…they all really thought she was that horrible? They were afraid of her? Even hated her?"

"Yes," Dorothy whispered, "they wanted me to kill her. I never could have though, not on purpose. I only meant to help her, when I threw all that water on her…"

"Water?" Tessy looked incredulous.

"She was allergic to water, if that's the right term. It burned her…" Fiyero tried to explain.

Mae looked thoughtful, "Well…she did seem strangely amazed at the idea of a bath. I suppose that's why…and she does love to stand in the rain. I'm always telling her to come in out of the storms…"

"And where does she come from?" Emily still didn't look convinced.

"Oz, the Land of Oz, the same as myself," Fiyero tried to explain, knowing it was not an easy truth to swallow.

"And from what I saw, she really is green?" Emily's voice was high and shaking.

"Yes," Fiyero confirmed wearily.

"Is she ok?" Dorothy asked in a small voice, looking frightened.

"She will be," Fiyero spoke up, not wanting the child to continue to be so tormented, "she has these fits on occasion. She was…she had a head injury when she was younger and now when she works herself up, emotionally, or doesn't sleep well…sometimes this happens. She'll recover by tomorrow. There's no lasting damage after the fits, the damage is already done…" he trailed off, unable to hide the fact that he was still angry about how she'd sustained the injury.

Dorothy looked somewhat appeased, but Emily still looked wary and afraid, "So why then was she called a witch?" she asked.

Fiyero started to answer, and then realized she'd earned that title so long after his supposed death that he didn't truly know.

Mae answered instead, "I don't rightfully know, but I can tell you she has been the antithesis of wicked since she's lived in this house. She came here about a year ago, and although she has most definitely lived through a number of horrors, she doesn't seem to intend any harm. She can be quiet and brooding sometimes, but she has a good heart. That much I know," Mae reassured, willing to stake all that she owned on her assessment.

"I can't imagine her as this great witch, feared by a whole country," Tessy added, "I think she's afraid of a lot of things herself…"

Emily looked appeased for the moment, and she began to eat wearily. Fiyero rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on from the day's travel and other events.

Mae, sensing the weariness of all, suggested, "Perhaps we should all clean ourselves up and get some rest. I don't believe anything we need to deal with will change much overnight. In the morning, we can get to know each other properly. Elphaba will be awake then, and I believe it would mean a great deal to her to know that you are no longer afraid of her," she directed the last bit towards Dorothy.

They all looked grateful and, after having eaten, Mae showed Dorothy and Emily to a clean room where they could sleep. Tessy and Adrian climbed the stairs to their room, and Mae stopped to watch Fiyero, who was sitting on the sofa, staring blankly.

"And what about you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow again.

Fiyero met her gaze and shook his head, looking a little amazed, "It's funny…when you make that expression…you almost look like…" he didn't finish, shaking off the thought.

"Like?" Mae asked.

"Like her," Fiyero finished, knowing it was ridiculous.

"I suppose folks can grow to look like one another," Mae tossed out.

"I suppose," Fiyero agreed.

"So again, what about you?"

"What about me?"

"What do I do with you tonight? I have another spare room, but then, my Elphaba is alone and not feeling well," Mae explained.

"Your Elphaba?" Fiyero questioned.

"I love her like my child. I want her to be happy, and she wants you. I know your history, because she trusted me enough to tell me. There's no use bothering with stiff social customs when we both know you've shared a bed. Lord knows, you came back from the fields covered in barley and mud…" Mae's mouth twitched a little and her eyes had a hint of teasing in them.

Fiyero smiled gratefully, a little embarrassed, "Thank you," he whispered, and then wearily climbed the stairs.

He found the door to Elphaba's room and carefully pushed it open. She was laying very still, clearly deep in slumber. He crossed the room to the bed and carefully removed his shoes. Still wearing his clean change of clothes, he crawled into the bed and lay next to her. She gave no indication of knowing he was there, and she did not awaken. Every so often, she still trembled and mumbled to herself.

It was early to go to sleep, but Fiyero didn't want to leave. He lay with her, stretching out his body so they were touching from his chin to her feet. He wrapped his arms around her, remembering how small she felt, despite her height. He breathed in the scent of her hair and let his hand run over her arm, remembering the dark contrast of his ochre skin against the emerald of hers. He twined his fingers through her long, expressive ones. She was still beautiful, even more so if that was possible.

Her lashes were spread over her high, arched cheekbones as she slept. Her nose was still as straight and strong as it had been. Her lips still had a sly, perfect curve, and always seemed to be holding a secret. Age had only given her more expression, more depth, angle, and mystery. Fiyero ran one finger over the scar on her face, remembering Jacob's story about Dallas and the guard who beat her. It made him angry, as angry as he'd been fifteen years ago when she'd first admitted to being raped.

On the verge of slumber, he wondered if perhaps they had a chance with each other now. Perhaps there would be no more heartbreak. Fiyero finally fell asleep just staring at her, memorizing her and loving her more each moment.

The following morning, Mae was up early preparing breakfast. She took the time to fry some fresh bacon and make a new batch of biscuits. She had fresh eggs cooking, and brought out molasses and jelly she'd been storing until it reached just the right sweetness.

Emily and Dorothy came down first, dressed and looking rested.

"It certainly smells fine down here," Emily complimented.

"Have a seat, be ready in a minute," Mae instructed.

Emily obeyed, and seemed much more at ease this morning. Tessy, Adrian, and Wilbur came in from the barn then, toting fresh milk. Wilbur was chuckling a little, because he'd been trying to teach Adrian something about working on a farm.

"You'll get the hang of it," Wilbur teased, taking his seat.

Adrian looked a little sheepish, but laughed, and Mae took the milk. She poured generous servings and set the food out just as Fiyero came down the stairs.

He'd woken to find Elphaba still deeply sleeping and hadn't wanted to wake her. She needed the rest, so he covered her carefully with the quilt and crept downstairs. He made sure, however, to leave his jacket across the chair. He hoped she would see it and know he was here, rather than immediately dissolving into heartbreak, thinking their reunion had been a dream.

They all sat down to breakfast then, and Wilbur said grace. Afterwards, Mae passed the food and they ate hungrily.

"Now Fiyero," Wilbur spoke first, "tell us how you managed to find us here in Amber Plains."

Fiyero took another bite and considered. Then he recounted his story again, including how he had a makeshift family of sorts in White Springs. He added what Trudy had told him, of Elphaba coming to his home to look for him, and of her trip to Dallas. Tessy looked pained at the memory, and she shook her head.

"Those folks ought not to call themselves the law," she spat, remembering the burly guard with no regard for women, "he had no right to do what he did to Elphie, no right. She nearly died from infection, and it was just horrible, what it did to her spirit…"

"I suppose she's made it through much worse," Fiyero added, remembering.

Mae cleared her throat and addressed Emily, "And what brought the two of you here, with Fiyero?"

Emily looked thoughtful, "My husband and I have a small farm in a tiny town west of White Springs. So tiny it doesn't have a proper name. Fiyero came to us looking for shelter, and we obliged. We took him in again when he came back through, this time raging with fever from typhoid. He nearly died, but my husband fetched a tonic for him and we helped him get well. Have to say, he felt a little like family at that point. We try to help those we can, since folks pass through our town fairly often. Most don't take too kindly to colored folk, but when you're poor and hard working, color doesn't seem so important. Fiyero's been kind enough to help around the farm, and Dorothy has taken to him," she stopped to think, "I felt he was still a bit sickly to be traveling alone, and Dorothy wanted to see a bit of the world…"

They all turned toward the child, who'd been eating quietly.

"I've never seen more than our little town," Dorothy spoke up softly, "and I'd like to see more of the world, like my grandmother, Madeleine. She traveled and lived everywhere so she could write her stories. Her and her lover went everywhere together."

"Dorothy," Emily reprimanded, "you're far too young to use the word 'lover'."

Dorothy looked taken aback, "I'm sorry. That's what she called him, her lover Oscar, the most wonderful man she'd ever met," she quoted the diary.

"Perhaps it would be a nicer story if he hadn't swept her off her feet and then left her alone and pregnant, for me and our mother to tend to," Emily sounded angrier than she intended, and apologized, "I'm sorry. This is my family's tragedy, not yours," she addressed Mae.

"It's all right," Mae shook her head, "I'm ashamed to say I have a family member whose reputation was a bit the same. My oldest brother was a bit untrustworthy with the ladies. He was a half-brother, actually. His mother left him with my father and disappeared, before my parents were married. My mother raised him anyway, not wanting the child placed in an orphanage. He broke many a heart. We called him Ozzie, for Oscar. It's ironic, is it not?"

It took a child's innocence to put the pieces together, and Dorothy spoke up, "What was his last name?"

"Diggs," Mae answered, "same as mine used to be."

Dorothy's eyes widened, "That's the same name! That's the name from the diary! I can show you!" she started to run towards the stairs.

"Dorothy!" Emily ordered, "Sit down! We'll have no runnin' from the table!"

The child sat, subdued, "I'm sorry…but I just…"

They all looked stunned, as they looked from Dorothy to Mae and back again. Finally, Mae asked, "Does the diary say what became of him?"

"He just…disappeared," Dorothy answered quietly.

Emily sighed and agreed, "It's true, although I'm sorry to dredge up our family business with you. He disappeared one day and left my sister alone and pregnant. She came home and raised her child, alone. Her daughter, Adelaide, was Dorothy's mother. It was just a tragic story that I'd hoped we'd put behind us. We certainly didn't come here to unload our baggage on your family."

"It's all right," Mae reassured, "I never imagined that…well I didn't know my brother very well because he was much older, but he did travel constantly. He would tell stories of his escapades with women, and he delved a little into the world of music and theater. He disappeared, just like you said, without a trace. My father was heartbroken, because he had hoped his son would straighten up and settle down…"

"So," Wilbur interjected, "if this Oscar from the diary is, in fact, Mae's brother, then that means that sitting right here," he indicated Dorothy, "is our…great niece?"

They all stared at each other for a moment, speechless. Out of the silence, Fiyero spoke up.

"Do either of you recall how many years ago this Oscar disappeared?" he asked.

Mae looked thoughtful, but Emily answered, "Thirty-eight years. Dorothy's mother would be thirty-eight, if she had lived…"

"That sounds right," Mae whispered in agreement.

Fiyero looked frozen, and a little pale, "That name…Oscar…that was the given name of the great and terrible Wizard of Oz…"

"The wizard?!" Dorothy squeaked, "The very same wizard? The one who wanted me to…kill her?"

"What?" Emily and the others asked the question in unison.

"I told you…he wanted me to kill the Wicked Witch…in Oz," Dorothy's voice was small and afraid.

"Dorothy," Emily spoke up, "We've asked you to stop telling those ridiculous stories…" her argument seemed somewhat apathetic now, as most of Dorothy's stories were proving themselves true.

"No," Fiyero cut in, "she's right. The political leader of the Land of Oz, the great and terrible Wizard, his name was Oscar…I'm sure of it."

There was a stunned silence, and after several long moments, Adrian cleared his throat. He had been mostly silent, and now spoke up carefully, "If I may…I remember in talking with Elphaba in Boston, she mentioned this Wizard. It was clear she hated him, but she said that someone had implied to her that he was, in fact, her father. She seemed repulsed at the idea, but admitted it could be true. It was the only thing that explained…the things that make her unique…"

All eyes turned toward him, reflecting a mixture of confusion, disbelief and amazement. Mae stood up, wordlessly, and returned after a moment with a piece of paper and a pen from her stationary. She began to draw lines and names, and the others held their breath, unsure of what she was doing. When she was done, she turned it around for the others to see. They studied it breathlessly, all thoughts of breakfast forgotten.

What Mae had drawn was startlingly, strangely clear. She'd connected herself to her oldest brother, Oscar. She'd then connected him to Madeleine as father to Adelaide, who was mother to Dorothy. She'd then connected Oscar to Melena, a name Fiyero supplied. From there, she'd connected Melena to Elphaba.

Then, they all sat in stunned silence, each one afraid to move, afraid to speak. Finally, Wilbur excused himself for a moment.

"It's just not possible…" Emily whispered in disbelief.

Returning wordlessly, Wilbur sat a framed photograph on the table amongst them. It was the picture from the stairwell, of Anna Margaret. Fiyero took in a sharp breath and looked to Mae for explanation.

"That's my daughter, Anna Margaret. She died four years ago," Mae explained softly.

Fiyero felt as though he couldn't breathe as he stared at the picture. It could have been Elphaba, down to the curve of her smile. He looked from Mae to Dorothy and back again. Suddenly, he saw it. Mae's hair, now silvered, had clearly once been very dark. Her eyes, although steel gray, were flecked with green. Dorothy's hair, though more chestnut than ebony, was dark and full. Her eyes were dark brown, again with hints of green. He remembered how Mae had quirked her eyebrow up, and for a moment, Fiyero had seen Elphaba. He swallowed hard.

"This can't be possible…" Mae choked out, frozen in disbelief while still staring at her hand-drawn family tree.

"She's your niece…" Fiyero whispered.

Emily shook her head a little, "It's too much to believe, that we would all be sitting in this house and…" she couldn't finish.

For several moments, there was not sound, as no one dared to speak.

"She really is mine," Mae finally spoke up, her voice thin, "after all this time and I just knew there was something there…she's mine, so to speak. There's blood between us…"

"But," Emily still looked shocked, "But she's green! Lord sakes, she's green! I mean as truly as I sit here she's absolutely _green!_"

"Congratulations on knowing your colors," a voice, dripping with sarcasm, spoke up from behind them.

Each of their heads whipped around to see Elphaba standing at the bottom of the stairs. She clearly understood that she was the topic of the breakfast conversation, and she was clearly unhappy. Fiyero swallowed hard, knowing this was not going to be easy.


	24. Chapter 24: A Time to Plant

**Chapter 24: A Time to Plant**

Fiyero watched as Elphaba's eyes flitted over each of their faces, trying to read what was happening. When her eyes met his, she froze. Her voice came out in a small, thin squeak as she questioned, "Fiyero?"

He saw her realize that their reunion had not been a dream. He could read her thoughts as she paled slightly and placed her hand on the back of the sofa, steadying herself. Finally, he saw her expression harden as she slipped behind her mask of nonchalance and false strength. Fiyero knew that Elphaba wouldn't publicly display how she felt. It pained him, because he knew that even though she stood stoically, she was a crumbling, trembling heap of emotion on the inside. He could sense that, beneath the façade, she wanted to run to him and fall apart in his embrace. Yet Elphaba would never, ever let the others see that.

So Fiyero got up and crossed the room to her, allowing himself only to take her hand.

Elphaba turned to look at him and, as usual, her eyes gave her away. There was joy, fear, trepidation, and longing in their depths.

"You're really here?" she asked softly.

"I'm really here," he squeezed her hand.

Fiyero saw her swallow hard, allowing herself only that for the moment, "And what are they doing here?" she hissed toward Emily and Dorothy.

"They brought me here," Fiyero answered.

Elphaba did not look convinced, and her eyes were sharp as she studied the two of them.

Before Fiyero could think of something comforting to say, Dorothy very slowly stood from the table and crossed the room. She looked a little afraid, but kept coming with small, shaky steps. When she came within a few feet of Elphaba, Fiyero saw Elphaba's body tense, like a cat, cornered and afraid. On instinct, she reached out for the first thing at hand, which was the broom she'd brought back from her visit to Dorothy's home town. It had been leaning against the brick of the large fireplace.

Elphaba jerked away from Fiyero and clutched the broom in front of her. It was illogical, since she knew it held no power, but perhaps seeing her the way she had looked at their last meeting would be enough to frighten Dorothy away.

The girl stopped within arms reach of her witch, the figure she'd so feared for almost a year. They all held their breath as she stood there, studying Elphaba, from her dark, knotted hair, her black, basic dress, all the way to her feet, which she'd already clad in her boots. Finally, Dorothy reached out her hand and touched Elphaba. Elphaba leapt backward, dropping the broom.

"Elphie…" Fiyero placed his hand on her back for comfort, and also to keep her from running. Everything in him said that this meeting was critical.

Dorothy picked up the broom and considered it, and then placed it aside. She reached out again and took Elphaba's hand. Fiyero could feel Elphaba tremble with fear.

The child studied Elphaba's hand, looking at each finger, as compared to her own. Finally, she said softly, "My mother's hands were like this…it's one of the only things I remember about her…"

Dorothy looked up into Elphaba's face, and Fiyero could see the girl was no longer afraid.

Elphaba jerked backward again, alarmed and perhaps now more angry than afraid, "What is she talking about? What is the meaning of all of this?" her voice was growing high and shrill.

Mae stood up then and crossed the room to them. She gently laid her hands on Dorothy's shoulders and said, "Why don't you sit down, child?"

Dorothy complied, somewhat satisfied.

Mae looked Elphaba in the eyes and said, "Come sit down. We have a lot to talk about, but I assure you, no one is here to harm you."

Elphaba looked around again, still wary.

Fiyero turned Elphaba toward him and stepped close, so close he could feel her breath. He took her by the arms and looked into the maelstrom in her eyes. He wanted to kiss her so badly it hurt. He wanted her to himself, away from all this fear, torment, confusion and tension. Yet he knew that first, she had to know the truth. She had to understand that her existence was indeed no accident, that she was not alone. So he walked her over to the table and sat her down, clutching her hand in support. He sat beside her and looked toward Mae, silently asking for help.

Dorothy slipped back into her seat and Mae pressed the picture of Anna Margaret towards Elphaba. Then she said, "I think we've finally managed to answer some questions…"

"This is your daughter," Elphaba indicated the picture, trying to sound flippant, "I know that. It's strange, but I know this already."

"Elphaba," Mae started again, "do you remember, in Boston, telling Adrian that this man you knew as the wizard, this leader of your world, was your father?"

"My father was Frexspar Thropp," Elphaba automatically defended, her fingernails digging into the table.

"Elphaba," Adrian spoke up softly, "as much as I know it sickens you, you did tell me this wizard could be your father. You said it might explain many things…"

Elphaba swallowed, not answering the question, "And I assume there's some compelling reason why my family history is of interest to everyone in this room? I believe that it is rude to sit around and discuss someone's personal matters while they are asleep and--"

"Elphaba," Mae cut her off gently, "look at this," she slid the piece of paper with her hand-drawn family tree across the table.

Elphaba's eyes narrowed, but she pulled the paper towards herself and studied what Mae had drawn out. There was another long, pregnant pause during which no one moved, no one breathed. Fiyero saw Elphaba's hands begin to tremble as she studied the chart over and over, and realized its implications.

Finally, she began to mumble, "No…no, no, no, no, no…"

Elphaba stood from the table and crumpled the piece of paper. She launched it across the room in her anger.

"No!" she was shouting now, "this cannot be true! I refuse to acknowledge that he could be my father! I'll take the lukewarm relationship with a misguided minister over any relational tie to that sick and perverse monster!"

Fiyero stood and took her arms again, trying to stop her fervent and sudden pacing, "Elphaba…" he tried to calm her.

"No!" she jerked herself free, "and why is she here? Truly?" she pointed to Dorothy in her anger, "to put me off balance? How can you suggest we are related? She tried to _kill_ me!" Elphaba was shrieking now.

Fiyero took hold of her again, not backing down, "Elphie…she didn't know…she's just a child," he offered softly.

"How can you even know any of this for sure? This whole idea is just speculation and theory!" Elphaba argued.

"He's in Dorothy's journal," Mae tried to explain, "Oscar Diggs, or Ozzie. He fathered a child and disappeared, as did my oldest brother. He was also named Oscar…"

There was a momentary pause, before Elphaba shook her head fervently again, "He was a monster, Fiyero! A monster!" she still refused the truth.

Mae stood up and crossed the room then. She stood at eye level with Elphaba, and Fiyero stepped back. Mae took her hands, "Elphaba, that's not what matters. For all we know, he's dead and gone. Right, wrong, or just misguided, he's gone. What matters is that we are family. There's not just an unusual bond between us, there's blood. You cannot be just an aberration, because there's a reflection of you in me, and in that child over there."

"That child over there," Elphaba's voice was low and intense, "wanted me dead."

Dorothy spoke up again, sounding a little more confident, and a little older than her years, "I could never have purposely hurt you. I didn't want you dead! I was afraid and didn't know what else to do. I just wanted to go home. Haven't you ever just wanted to go home? Haven't you ever been willing to do anything just to find something familiar?"

Elphaba started to respond, yet stood speechless. She couldn't deny the fact that she had spun out of control in her own desperate search for somewhere to belong. She had found no answers in the Vinkus, no forgiveness from Sarima, and no comfort even in her aging father and bitter sister. She tried to imagine what she had looked like, and how she had acted when she had met Dorothy at Kiamo Ko.

"I'm sorry," Dorothy continued softly, "very sorry…I just thought you were going to hurt me, and the boy Liir. I thought you would kill my little dog and the poor, crazed lion. I was just afraid…"

Elphaba did not answer. She looked frozen in the moment.

Mae spoke again softly, "We're family Elphaba, family. You're my niece, and over there," she turned toward Dorothy, "is your niece."

Fiyero saw Elphaba's shoulders drop, and knew she'd lost her fight. He saw it drain from her, and she stood quietly, studying Mae and Dorothy. After several awkward moments, she turned and ran. It was one of her two most instinctive reactions, to explode or to run.

Fiyero went after her, leaving the others behind in an uneasy silence. He followed her around the house and across the yard to the barn. She cut around to the back and stopped behind the large structure, where wildflowers were growing unchecked and provided a sense of privacy.

Elphaba began to pace erratically, furiously wiping tears away from her eyes. Finally, she choked out, "I can't have family Fiyero. I don't know how to belong. I've been isolated or outcast for so long that I just don't know how…it's too hard, it's too much…I simply can't…"

Fiyero was silent, feeling entirely inadequate at supplying an answer. As much as he loved her, in moments like these he was reminded of how very different their lives had been. He had always known his place, had always taken for granted the surety of his future. It was hard for him to imagine a childhood without the reassurance of his parents, without the security of wealth, and the promise of political influence. So Fiyero just went to her and held her close, wishing for the words to comfort her.

After some time, he heard footsteps in the grass behind him. Elphaba didn't move, distracted by her own tears. Fiyero turned and saw a woman approaching, perhaps a little older than Mae, yet without the motherly softness. She crossed to where the two of them stood and spoke.

"Miss Elphaba?" the woman asked.

"Myra?" Elphaba choked out, wiping her face furiously, "What do you need? I'll be right there…" she turned toward the barn as if to retrieve something.

Myra stopped her by taking her arm, and Elphaba was forced to turn and face her.

"Elphaba," Myra's tone was even and to the point, "I stopped by for some sugar, and Mae couldn't help but explain what was goin' on..."

Elphaba started to respond and Myra silenced her, "I'm going to say this once, because you know I'm not much for beggin' or great displays of emotion. But if I had one minute, one moment with the family that I lost, I would take it. I'd grab onto it and cherish them no matter what had passed between us. They're family, Elphaba. Don't matter what passed between you. Without family, we're all just lonely, bitter people, racking up misery and taking it out on each other."

With that, Myra reached out and, in a rare display, touched Elphaba's face. Her expression was tender, and yet unflinching at the same time, "You don't have to be a bitter, old widow Elphaba. Don't let fear get in the way of the goodness life has given, or perhaps re-given, you."

Elphaba stood silently then, staring at the sky. Fiyero was afraid to move, knowing she was contemplating her next move, trying to decide what to do with this unexpected turn in her destiny.

Back at the house, the others sat in a troubled silence, trying to decide what to do with themselves. After some time, Dorothy spoke up, "Do you think she'll come back?"

Mae sighed, "Myra is probably the only person who can bring her back right now…"

"Do you want her to come back?" Emily asked Dorothy, her voice edgy.

Dorothy nodded, and Tessy interjected, "Elphie isn't going to hurt her. She's not evil or wicked, and she is not a witch…at least not in this world."

Emily still looked torn, "She didn't seem at all happy to be near Dorothy. She looked at the child like she was…poison or something. Surely Dorothy had some reason to be so afraid of her!"

Tessy couldn't help but come to Elphaba's defense, "She's had a hard life, much harder than most of us can imagine. Yes, she's paranoid and defensive, and at times she's not much for conversation, but she wouldn't hurt any of us. She's just been hurt so many times that she doesn't quite know how to let down that harsh exterior," Tessy turned toward Emily, "She's had horrible things done to her, because she's a woman," Tessy held Emily's eyes in a meaningful look, communicating her point without explaining it to Dorothy.

Emily looked away and studied the floor, clearly horrified at the point Tessy had made.

Mae turned and studied Emily for a long moment, until Emily looked up at her, "Elphaba has fits," Mae explained softly, "because, it is my understanding that someone once hit her over the head with a washbasin. That type of life is not something that is easy to forget, and that type of wrongdoing is not easy to forgive. It's hard to be compassionate and kind and normal when you carry that much pain. But if we're not willing to turn our backs and leave her, I think we just might save her soul…" Mae held Emily's gaze for a long time.

Emily finally let out a long sigh of concession, "You're right," she admitted, "I suppose I always did encourage Dorothy not to hate the old widow down the street, mean as she was…"

As Emily let her sentence trail off, the door opened slowly. Elphaba shuffled back inside, with Fiyero and Myra shortly behind. They looked hesitant, but Elphaba was calm, still, and resolute. She stood just inside the door for a few moments, surveying the room. Then she crossed to the table and addressed Dorothy.

"Come walk with me," Elphaba softly instructed.

Dorothy looked shocked, and said nothing.

"Are you my niece?" Elphaba asked.

"Yes," Dorothy finally whispered, certain.

"Then come walk with me," Elphaba extended her hand.

Dorothy looked to her Aunt Em, who nodded. Then she turned and took Elphaba's hand. The two crossed the room and left through the still-open door.

Leaving the others a bit shocked, they walked across the farmyard and toward the path than ran between the fields to the pond. Neither spoke for some time.

Finally, Elphaba asked, "Would you have killed me, if it were your only means of escape from Kiamo Ko?"

Dorothy shook her head, "No. I couldn't kill someone, it's not in me. I'm just a farm girl from nowhere, really."

"I don't suppose I'm truly capable of killing anyone, either…" Elphaba seemed to be remembering her failed attempts.

"It turned out all right, I suppose," Dorothy mused, "They all lived…the Lion, the Scarecrow, and the silly man of tin. Even little Toto…and Liir."

Elphaba inhaled sharply, but said nothing.

"Miss Elphaba…he was your son, wasn't he? Isn't he?" Dorothy held her breath, now a little afraid.

There was a long silence before Elphaba answered flatly, "I don't know. I truly don't know…"

"I think he was, because he loved you in spite of it all. You could tell, even though he was awfully angry with you."

Elphaba stopped walking for a moment, but did not answer. Her expression was unreadable as she stood there. Finally, she continued on, asking, "And what of the Wizard, once you returned?"

"Liir took the cloak, and the broom. He seemed determined to have them. And the Wizard…he was hardly a wizard at all. I don't understand it all, I'm just a child, but his masquerade fell apart…and he left."

"He left?" Elphaba looked incredulous.

Dorothy nodded, "He was only a caricature of a wizard, really. No real power at all…"

After a moment, Elphaba answered, "Someone once told me I was but a caricature of a witch…"

"Perhaps they were right," Dorothy pondered, then asked, "May I call you Auntie?"

Elphaba finally turned to look at the child, "I suppose, since the others did."

They walked on in silence, and Dorothy didn't question her meaning.

Lunchtime had passed when they returned to the house. Mae had left a pot of vegetable stew and some biscuits out, though, before going on with her daily chores. The house was quiet now, with the others seeing to their routines. After eating a little, Elphaba excused herself to lie down, feeling another headache beginning. She wondered for a moment at Fiyero's whereabouts, but quickly gave in to the softness of her quilts and slept.

She woke several hours later to the sound of stillness. Rising and stretching her body, Elphaba straightened her clothes and slipped downstairs. Mae was in the kitchen fixing supper alone.

"Where is everyone?" Elphaba asked softly.

"Tessy and Adrian went into town, and Wilbur's putting in some squash. I believe Ms. Emily and Dorothy are in the flower garden. Fiyero said he needed to think, and took out one of the horses."

Elphaba couldn't help smiling a little, "I always did want him to start thinking," she whispered to herself.

Mae stopped stirring and studied Elphaba for a long moment. She set down the spoon and crossed the distance between them. Gently, she took Elphaba's hands. The two were nearly the same height, and they studied each other's eyes, which now looked so much the same.

"This is one of the only times I've seen you smile on your own," Mae said softly.

Elphaba looked down at their entwined hands.

"I wish I could tell you how much this means to me…to have you, to know that you are…" Mae's voice cracked and she couldn't finish the sentence.

When Elphaba looked up, there were tears in her eyes as well. She furiously wiped them away, throwing out, "Damn tears…such a torment to me."

Mae put one hand on Elphaba's face so she could not look away, "Let them come. Don't you know there's no judgment from family?"

Mae wrapped Elphaba in a tight embrace, and Elphaba clung to her.

Fiyero returned as the sun sunk below the horizon. With Elphaba's help, Mae had dinner on the table when they all began to gather. There was a delicate peace as they sat together and Wilbur said grace for their meal. Adrian kept them occupied with new stories of the research being done in Boston. To most of them, his work was beyond their understanding, but they could see Elphaba watching him closely as he talked. To her, the strange world of theoretical physics was her lifeline, her explanation for why she'd been born, and a hint at her future destiny.

Surprisingly, it was Dorothy who piped up with a question, "So this place called Oz…it's a whole other world?"

"Yes," Adrian answered excitedly, "and Miss Elphaba is a child of both worlds, a _Tempus Viator,_ as ancient mythology would call her."

"So…" Dorothy looked thoughtful, "what does that make me?"

No one answered for a moment, and Adrian looked thoughtful, "I suppose I don't know. You've been to Oz, though. Travel there is possible for you."

They were all left with that thought as they finished their dinner and gathered around the living room. Mae poured hot coffee as Emily and Dorothy told the story of the twister the year before that had started her journey into Oz. The young girl was quite a storyteller, and her animated telling of the events was enthralling. For once, Elphaba found that the whole thing did not stir up a maelstrom of emotions. It was Dorothy's journey, in which she'd played a small part and nothing more.

When the story was done, Elphaba asked suddenly, "What happened to the old widow? She clearly didn't take your dog…"

Dorothy looked at her hands, and Emily answered, "She died in the twister. A sad end to a sad life…"

Elphaba was struck by the statement, but Adrian interjected before she could respond, "That's it! That's the common link! Trauma, or fear, or maybe panic…"

"What?" Elphaba looked at him oddly.

"What got Fiyero here, what brought Elphie here, what took Dorothy to Oz…it was all in a moment of panic or fear, or trauma," Adrian looked quite excited at his discovery.

Elphaba looked from Adrian to Fiyero, "So you think it was me? I sent him here?"

"Perhaps…" Adrian answered.

Elphaba thought back fifteen years, to the lowest moment in her life. She remembered the blood and the horrific pain in her chest from the grief. She remembered chanting unintelligibly from her spell books and wishing Fiyero out of his devastating situation. Perhaps that had been it. Perhaps she did not have the power to heal, but she did have the power to send him away. She was overwhelmed by the idea that, after all this time, she had indeed played a part in saving him. It had not been in vain, after all.

It was all too much for one day, to learn she was part of a family and to imagine she had, in fact, saved her lover's life. Elphaba excused herself and headed upstairs, wanting peace in the sanctuary of her bedroom. She left the others to ponder Dorothy's journey, and the meaning of it all. Adrian would have to wait until tomorrow to explore his newly discovered hypothesis with her.

Fiyero joined her moments later, finding Elphaba perched on the edge of her large bed, studying her hands.

"It's a lot of take in, I know…" he offered.

Elphaba stood and paced a little, finally asking, "When you arrived here all those years ago, where were you? How did you survive?"

Fiyero took a deep breath and lowered himself onto the bed, "I don't remember all of it, but someone apparently stumbled over me on the side of the road just outside of White Springs. It was Ma, or Trudy, who took me in and got me back on my feet. I was apparently quite a mess, and I still have the scars…" he stood up then and unfastened his shirt. He dropped it on the bed and crossed the room to show her the criss-crossing scars that marred his back and parts of his chest. He turned his head into the light to show her the faint scars that disappeared beneath his hairline.

Elphaba's breath caught as she studied the evidence of his devastating wounds. It most certainly accounted for all the blood she still vividly remembered. She reached out one hand and traced one of the scars that marred the blue diamonds still etched onto his chest. At her touch, Fiyero inhaled sharply, and Elphaba became very aware of how close they were.

She stood very still, and could feel his heartbeat beneath his skin. She looked up and met his eyes, realizing how long it had been since they'd stood this close, been this alone, this calm, and undisturbed. She'd been so busy analyzing and trying to understand the events of the day that Fiyero's presence seemed fleeting and impossible, until now. Now he was very real before her.

Fiyero closed the distance between them. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her, not forcefully, but without hesitation. She melded into him, clinging to him tightly as her emotions reeled and spun within her. Part of her wanted to lose herself in him, to forget the past fifteen years and melt into his arms. Yet the raw power of their reunion was spent, and it didn't come as easily now, in this quiet place.

Elphaba pulled away and studied Fiyero's face. He was the same, older perhaps, with fine lines around his eyes and more strength in his features, yet the same. Still, fifteen years had passed. So much had happened. So much had shaped and changed their worlds and who they had become. Elphaba couldn't ignore it, couldn't pretend that she didn't wonder if their affair had been simply that, a fleeting decision born of youth and ignorance. Was passion and desire enough? Was her desire to make love to him enough to make her believe she could really love him? She'd believed that once, perhaps, when she'd been far more idealistic.

Elphaba pulled away and crossed the room to the bed again. She sat and rubbed her eyes, unsure of her next move.

Fiyero, looking concerned, crossed and sat with her, "What is it?" he asked.

Elphaba struggled for words, "It's just…it's been fifteen years. If you only knew what I've become…what I became. And what do I know about your life? It's been a long time, since the corn exchange…"

Fiyero took a deep breath and considered, "It has…but I have never stopped loving you. You do know that, don't you?"

"I wanted to…I wanted to believe it, but it wasn't possible…until now," Elphaba twisted her hands together and considered her next words, "I don't remember anything from the first year after…you died. And then I found myself in a mauntery, where I stayed for seven years, first in the city and then just outside. When I left, they sent me away with this boy…he was six years old…" she didn't finish, still entirely unsure of what it meant.

"Liir?" Fiyero asked quietly.

"Yes," Elphaba whispered, looking confused.

"Dorothy mentioned him," Fiyero explained, "She apparently knew him."

Elphaba nodded slowly, and then continued, "We went to Kiamo Ko. I'm not entirely sure why, but I had no other destination, no other purpose. I felt like all the drive had been stripped from me. I was hollow and hard, and just empty. I wanted forgiveness from Sarima, for loving you, for killing you. I wanted peace, and I wanted to die…"

Fiyero looked saddened, and a little horrified, "You? Wanted to die?"

Elphaba met his eyes, "I'm not made of ice or steel, Fiyero. I tried to be. I tried to be numb, to die inside, but it just led to madness. I stayed there for years, with your wife and children. I think in some way she knew…knew who I was, or what I was. They died, though, in political warfare that I never could stop. She died without forgiving me, and the only one left is Nor. At least, I'd like to believe she's alive."

Fiyero swallowed hard, "And Liir. He's alive…" he finally added.

Elphaba rose and paced again as she began to ramble out the rest of the story, "So much of Oz was in chaos. Father died, and then Nessarose, and Munchkinland plunged into civil war. I tried to make sense of it, I tried! I tried to keep those magicked shoes out of their hands! I tried to kill Morrible and I appealed to the Wizard!" Elphaba stopped and stared at the ceiling for a moment, "I suppose it was too big for me…too deep and twisted and corrupt…"

"I've always tried to tell you, you can't take on the world by yourself. You've done what you could, and more than most would have done," Fiyero encouraged.

"I suppose," Elphaba whispered, then added, "They called me the Wicked Witch of the West, because they were afraid of me. I even walked away from Galinda, in my bitterness. I suppose in the end, I wasn't much different than those I hated so much…"

Fiyero sighed and tried to still her by taking her hands, "Elphaba, we all make mistakes. We all have scars and hardships and regrets. I've got mine. But I love you, flawed as we both are."

Elphaba pulled back again, as though she hoped to repel him, "I slept with Adrian," she tossed out, letting the words hang there for Fiyero to absorb.

A hurt looked flitted across Fiyero's face, but he recovered. After a moment, he asked, "Tessy's Adrian? Her husband?"

Elphaba returned to pacing, "Yes, and although I know it's more believable to think it was an affair, it was before they were married. Before they knew they loved each other."

"Elphaba," Fiyero tried to stop her, "I do not assume the worst of you. Did you love him?" his question was tentative and a little fearful.

"No," Elphaba snapped, "I just needed something, as selfish as that may be. I needed to feel something, to be held and touched. It comes naturally to me, I suppose, to be the mistress, the handmaiden, the other woman. Legitimate affection eludes me…"

Fiyero took her arms this time, to stop her pacing so that she could not pull away, "Elphaba, I love you. Legitimately. I'm sorry for ever having made you the other woman, because you deserve more. You are the only woman I ever willingly chose."

Elphaba looked up and studied his face for a long time, her expression unreadable, "And what now?" she finally asked, "What are we now?"

Fiyero considered his next words, knowing Elphaba was not one to appreciate over-romanticized speeches, "I'm making you a promise, right now, that I will not make love to you again until you are my wife. Not because I don't want you, because I desperately want you, but because I want all of you. We're no longer young, and the time for frivolity is over. I want you legitimately. I want you for better and worse and everything in between."

Elphaba stood very still, her emotions raging behind her eyes. She said nothing, which was her way, but she looked to be fighting back tears, or perhaps just the urge to explode with emotion.

Finally, she just kissed him. She kissed him long and deeply, with her exquisite fingers tangled in his hair. She kissed him in a way that stirred up memories of him being pressed against the wall in the corn exchange, and of a dozen other times when her potent sexuality had defied all expectation. It had been so long, he'd nearly forgotten how it felt to experience this pool of incredible energy and longing behind her harsh façade. It was torment, when she pulled away, because his body had been stirred into excitement, and he wanted her desperately.

She crossed to the bed then, and dropped her dress to the floor. Wearing only a thin shift, Elphaba turned back to him, "I suppose we'll have to have a wedding tomorrow, then, since I doubt you can resist me longer than that," she gave him an impish grin.

Fiyero took a deep breath and undressed, then crawled beside her in the bed. Behind her teasing, he knew she was testing him. She needed him to make good on his word and not touch her. So he did, because love made him strong, and had been making him strong for fifteen years. And she would be worth it.


	25. Chapter 25: A Time to Laugh

**Chapter 25: A Time to Laugh**

The following morning, Elphaba woke later than usual. She found herself alone, as Fiyero had clearly dressed and left while she slept soundly.

_It must be the stress, and the paroxysm, making me tired, _Elphaba told herself. She then dressed quickly and made her way down the stairs. She found that the others had all eaten and gone their separate ways. She poured a little coffee and took it out onto the porch. Outside, she found Tessy and Adrian sitting in two of the chairs, talking.

"Morning," Tessy offered with a bright smile.

Elphaba nodded, with a slight smile, and sat down beside them.

"Elphaba, I know it's early," Adrian started, "but we've just been talking. Now that we have an idea of what might be the catalyst behind traveling between this world and Oz, perhaps we could test the theory. Maybe there's a way for you to go back, and then return here…"

Elphaba considered for a moment, studying Adrian's eager face and then her coffee cup, "And what if I'm not sure that I want to go back?" she finally asked.

Adrian was unfazed, "Then don't stay. Just to know that you can cross the boundary between worlds is enough. Perhaps there's a use for this…ability."

"I'm not sure that Oz has much to offer you, and there's certainly nothing here that Oz hasn't already discovered. Both worlds have their share of horrors. I fear we'd only find a way of fighting with one another," Elphaba suggested with a twinge of sadness.

"Maybe this isn't about what our two worlds have to offer each other, but what this offers you," Adrian posed.

"And what would that be?" Elphaba quirked up her eyebrow.

Adrian sighed heavily, knowing that any argument with Elphaba was not going to be easily won, "I'm a scientist, Elphaba," he started, "not a detective or a government spy. I'm not interested in starting an inter-universal war. I just want to understand the universe. I want you to know who you are…why you are. In general, we scientists aren't seeking knowledge in order to use people…for good or for bad. That's left up to politicians and businessmen. Maybe you could learn something about yourself, about your place in this world, or Oz. Maybe you could teach us something about how different we can be…and also how much the same we are…" Adrian trailed off, still working out his thoughts.

"Elphaba," Tessy tried, "aren't you the least bit curious about what you're capable of? About what's become of Oz…and your son?"

Elphaba twisted her hands together for a moment, studying her fingers. Tessy could tell she was distressed. She'd known her long enough by now to recognize the silent turmoil.

Finally, Elphaba looked up at Adrian, "I told Fiyero about…you and me. I thought he should know," she threw out.

Adrian looked a bit startled, but Tessy laid a hand on his arm and spoke instead, "Elphie…don't do that. I know you're avoiding this. I won't dredge up an old argument just to avoid the matter at hand."

Elphaba met Tessy's eyes and stared at her for some time before answering, "Perhaps I don't want to know what's become of Oz. Maybe I don't want to be the Wicked Witch of the West in a land of oppression and bloodshed. I'm nearly forty years old, Tessy. Maybe I want to live with Fiyero in peace, to have some sense of normalcy. Maybe I'm tired of being….a freak of nature," she dropped her hands at that, looking somewhat defeated.

"Elphie, you are certainly different. I won't argue that point, but 'freak' is a harsh word. And I won't deny that you deserve some peace. If that's what you want, fine. But I don't think any of us can imagine you living out the rest of your life as a quiet housewife. I think you'd go crazy," Tessy predicted.

Elphaba held Tessy's gaze, and then studied her hands again for a moment before throwing out, "I will think about it."

With that, she stood and strode away towards the fields in a flurry of skirts.

Adrian dropped his head into his hands, and Tessy chuckled.

Elphaba walked until she reached the trees at the edge of the pond. It was hard for her to believe that just two days ago, she had stood here with Bala. It was hard to imagine that in such a short time, Fiyero had returned, and that her world had been turned on its head once again. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't see Dorothy until she nearly tripped over her. The child was sitting at the edge of the pond, her knees tucked under her gingham skirt, looking forlorn. Dorothy turned around, wide-eyed, as Elphaba tripped over herself.

"Child, I've nearly broken my ankle trying to avoid you! Why are you out here all alone?" Elphaba snapped.

Dorothy looked a little hurt, "Auntie…I'm sorry. Aunt Em says we have to go home tomorrow, and…I don't think I want to…"

Elphaba smirked a little, "But there's no place like home…" she threw out, her voice laced with sarcasm.

The young girl studied Elphaba for a moment, trying to determine if she meant to be humorous. Finally, Elphaba rolled her eyes and dropped to the ground next to Dorothy, "What keeps you from wanting to go home? From what I can remember, home was your only goal for some time," she asked.

Dorothy looked thoughtful for a moment, "I guess…I just feel like there's a lot more in this world than I realized…there's so much more than just our little town without a name…"

"You're right about that, at least," Elphaba offered, "Both of our worlds are bigger than we realized."

"Maybe I'm too young to think this, but I want to be something more than just a farm girl. I want to be like my grandmother, Madeleine," Dorothy spoke with wisdom beyond her years. It was a trait Elphaba was just now seeing in her, this thoughtful, unusual intelligence.

Elphaba chose her words carefully, "Have you ever considered," she asked quietly, "that you might be more?"

"What do you mean?" Dorothy asked softly.

Elphaba took a breath, hoping she would not regret this moment in the future, "If you and I are both children of the Wizard, grandchild for you, we are indeed what Adrian says we are."

"What is that?" Dorothy's eyes were wider than it seemed possible.

"Tempus Viator," Elphaba repeated the term Adrian had used.

"What is that?"

"I suppose it's you and me, and however many others there might be," Elphaba proposed, realizing it was the first time she had said it out loud.

"What does that make us?" Dorothy's voice was now a shaky whisper.

"We are of both worlds. We have a parent from each world…so we can travel to both worlds," Elphaba tried to explain it simply. It sounded crazy, especially out loud.

"You think…that's how I made it to Oz?" Dorothy breathed.

"As ludicrous as it sounds, it is the only thing I've heard in my lifetime that makes complete sense," Elphaba offered.

"But I have no idea how I…" Dorothy left the thought unfinished.

"Neither do I," Elphaba finished the thought for her, "but perhaps it's simpler than we think."

Dorothy just stared with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

Elphaba reached out and took the child by her hands. She paused for a moment, sure she felt a brush of cosmic irony. She had certainly never imagined that she and Dorothy would join hands in a common cause.

"Close your eyes," Elphaba instructed, taking the lead in a game she wasn't sure how to play, "Try to find that feeling you had just before you traveled to Oz the last time. Try to recapture that…"

Dorothy squeezed her eyes closed, trying to remember that desperate state of wanting to be anywhere except where she was. She tried to bring back the utter panic at the ensuing twister, and the very real possibility of losing her dog again. She combined with it her new desire to see something more than Kansas. There was a maturity in her desire now, and more concrete idea of what she was running from, and to what she was running.

Satisfied, Elphaba pressed her eyes closed and tried summon up a portion of the manic desire to escape she had felt in Kiamo Ko with Dorothy. She allowed herself to remember just a fraction of the desperation she'd felt as she'd held Fiyero and willed him out of her world. It was too much to let herself feel the full magnitude of that tragedy again. She hoped it wouldn't be necessary.

For a few long moments, nothing happened. They both became hyper-aware of the stillness around them. Only a slight breeze rustled the grass. Occasionally, a frog rippled the waters of the pond. Then, when Elphaba had just begun to feel awkward, the world spun around them. Light and sound melded together into a mighty, rushing force that seemed to both propel them and hold them motionless at the same time. When the world around them became still again, it was another world.

Dorothy looked around frantically, clearly a little panicked. Elphaba stood and assessed her surroundings. She knew this place. It had to be one of the far corners of the Emerald City, in a rather disreputable area. There was garbage strewn about, overflowing from neglected and carelessly placed cans. Both she and Dorothy were speechless, and equally unsure as to what to do now. In their shock, neither realized they were not alone in the alley where they stood.

Another young girl of maybe thirteen or fourteen stood just a few paces away. Elphaba froze, recognizing her immediately.

_Nor._

She was older, and her hair was dirty and matted. She was much too thin, and clearly living in poor conditions, but it was Fiyero's daughter. Elphaba was sure. Were it not for Dorothy, she might have approached her, chased her if necessary to find out what she knew of the Wizard, and Oz. However, the wide-eyed Dorothy looked from Nor to Elphaba with fear and uncertainty. For the first time in her life, Elphaba decided that the people who waited for her at home were more important than the mission at hand. Returning to Amber Plains outweighed chasing down Nor. Whatever her life held, Nor was on her own this time.

Elphaba turned and grasped Dorothy's hands. The desire to go home was not hard to summon this time. They easily sent themselves back to Kansas.

After they vanished, Nor stood for some time. She looked shaken, thoughtful, and alarmed. After several moments, she raised the brush she'd been using to paint anti-government slurs, and scrawled on the nearest wall in loopy, careless script. She left just two words, two words that would stir controversy, and send men both rallying to action and running in fear.

_Elphaba lives._

Neither Elphaba nor Dorothy spoke for some time. They looked around to reassure themselves that they were in fact, back in Kansas. It was strange, Elphaba realized, to feel such comfort at returning to this place that had once seemed so foreign.

Finally, Dorothy whispered, "I suppose we are what Adrian says we are…"

Elphaba just nodded wordlessly.

"What do we do now?" Dorothy asked softly.

"We get back to the house. It looks like another storm is coming," Elphaba commanded, suddenly very aware of the wind whipping ahead of the dark, rolling clouds in the distance. She took Dorothy's hand and they hurried back across the fields to the farmhouse, where they found Aunt Em and Mae waiting for them on the porch.

"Where have you been? It's been hours!" Emily spoke up, looking clearly distressed.

In quite possibly her first maternal instinct ever, Elphaba squeezed Dorothy's hand in reassurance. Mae caught the subtle gesture and asked, more calmly, "We were worried. Where have you been this afternoon?"

Fiyero came onto the porch at that moment, with Adrian close behind. They had clearly all been worried. Elphaba released Dorothy and struggled for an answer. She exchanged a look with the young girl, who looked afraid. Fiyero crossed to them and reached for Elphaba's hand. Just as he grasped her, something caught his eye. He knelt to pick it up, and studied it. Elphaba looked as well, alarmed. She realized very quickly that it was a hand-written grocery receipt. It must have stuck to her shoe in the alley. Clearly marked across the top was the name and address of the store where it had been written.

"Arden Street?" Fiyero questioned, "That's in the 10th Ward, in the Emerald City…" he stopped and studied Elphaba for several very quiet moments. Finally, a look of shocked realization took over his countenance, "Wait…were the two of you…." he left the question unfinished.

Adrian nearly tripped over himself getting down the porch steps. He snatched the crumpled receipt from Fiyero's hand and studied it in disbelief, "This," he asked, "is from Oz? The two of you did it? You traveled back to Oz?"

Elphaba looked suddenly uncomfortable and tired, "Yes…we did. We can," she admitted.

"I knew it!" Adrian exclaimed in excitement, "I knew you were both capable of it! This is wonderful! Imagine the possibilities for learning now! There's so much about our universe that we could discover from the two of you! I can't wait--"

"Now wait just a minute," Emily cut him off, "You're talking about my niece. You expect me to honestly believe that this woman she used to call a witch has managed to take her to another world? This place called Oz she's been rambling about?"

Adrian, Elphaba, Fiyero and Dorothy nodded together.

"Even if I was willing to believe this sort of travel was possible, I don't think I'll be letting anyone take my Dorothy anywhere without me. She's too young to be gallivanting off, especially to some other…world," Emily finished uneasily.

Elphaba's eyes flashed and she started to argue, but she was cut off by Mae, who was studying the sky, "We can argue this point later. Right now, I think we best be getting to the storm cellar. It looks like this storm could spawn a twister any time, and I'm sure the storm from last year is still fresh in all our memories," she looked at each of them pointedly before hurrying off to alert the farmhands.

Wilbur, who had been hanging behind, stepped up and led them all to the heavy door behind the large farmhouse. Fiyero helped him pull it open, and the others climbed down the stairs into the darkness below. The winds had begun to whip furiously, and Mae and a handful of others hurried into the cellar just as the rain began to pelt. Wilbur pulled the heavy door shut above them and Mae set to lighting the few lamps she had stored in the cellar. In the eerie, flickering light, they could see that the storm cellar was quite spacious.

Clearly, Mae and Wilbur had prepared well for the very real possibility of a major storm, which occurred nearly every spring in Amber Plains. The cellar was brick-lined, providing a solid separation between the storm and those huddled inside. The door was heavy and double-barred. There were also two rooms, separated by a makeshift wall of thin boards. In the smaller, separate room were stored rows of jarred foods, some medicines, some tools and a few articles of clothing. Elphaba was impressed with Mae and Wilbur's preparedness.

As the others found a place to sit on the overturned crates and benches scattered about, the howl of the wind outside grew louder. Dorothy huddled close to Emily. Wilbur produced a deck of cards then, and engaged the group in a simple card game. Dorothy calmed slightly, as he explained the game by the lamplight.

Fiyero pulled Elphaba into the smaller room, standing close to her in the small space, "Elphaba…Fae," he started, "I want you to know, I found someone to marry us. That's where I was this morning. I want to keep my word to you."

Elphaba looked shocked for a moment, and then studied her hands, "Fiyero…I was in Oz today…"

"I know…it's wonderful! You're more talented than any of us--"

"No," she cut him off, "it's not about me, or talent. Fiyero…I saw Nor. Nor is alive."

Fiyero was visibly shaken for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was strained, "Elphaba, I love my children. I loved them the best I could as a young and fairly stupid husband. I hope Nor is alive…and I know that if she learned anything from you, she will fight to her death for what's right. I also hope for Liir. I suppose I just hope for his happiness. Perhaps neither one of us were all that suited for parenthood. But I've spent my life here trying to compensate for the children I left behind, for the son I didn't know I had. I can't right all the wrongs, Elphaba. I'll try, if that's what you want. But I can't go another day without making this right with you. I need you first…to give me the strength to face all the tragedy I've left in my wake."

Elphaba looked stunned, and perhaps a little touched. She cleared her throat, struggling with words, "I want to be with you Fiyero. I've spent my life fighting the idea that I need another person…that you complete me in a way I don't want to give in to. You know me well enough to know that I don't want to need you. But I do…"

Fiyero knew he was getting soft with age, because her words melted his heart. He knew the struggle it was for her to make such an admission. He reached up and touched her face, wanting to kiss her, but very aware of all the others just steps away.

Elphaba pulled away, "Fiyero…I have Oz in my blood, the same as you. I don't know that I can settle down here as your happy housewife. I don't know that I can be…domesticated."

Fiyero cracked a tiny smile, suddenly imagining her as housecat, clawing at the doorframe to escape, "Fae…I don't expect to make you a pet…"

Elphaba wrung her hands and nearly crackled with impatience, "Don't call me that…don't try to seduce me…"

Fiyero refused to be deterred, "Fae, I think it's always been abundantly clear that you seduced me. In fact, I don't think I stood much of a chance against you…not that I minded…"

Her eyes flashed with a wildness that stirred up fear and longing within him. Fiyero stopped talking.

"Yero…you have a house full of children waiting for you in White Springs. You gave them a second chance, and they need you. I can't ask you to come back to Oz with me, but I don't know that I can live out my life as a farmer's wife. Not because I'm too proud," she quickly corrected, "because I need something to fight for. I need to learn…I need to make a difference. I need animals, or Animals. Maybe it's part of this cursed coloring of mine, but my body pulses not just with blood, but with the energy of the world around me. I feel its pain and triumphs, its wounds and its longings. I've tasted the edge of the wind, the depth of the forest, the emptiness of the heavens. Fiyero…I need…more."

"Then have it, Fae," he refused to be deterred, "Travel to Oz and work your underground magic that perplexes even the Emerald City elite. Go to Pennsylvania and train as a Veterinarian. There's an excellent school there. Visit Mae and Wilbur and cement this bond with your family. Take Dorothy somewhere besides the flat plains of Kansas and spite the universe by showing her what she can become. I have never hoped to nail you down and clip your wings. I'm not that stupid. All I ask is that you come back to me. At the end of the day or week or month, call our house home. Furl your wings and lay down with me. Let me be the place where you find your strength. That's enough for me."

Elphaba studied him, still twisting her hands together. Her eyes were still dark and unreadable. She reached up and mussed the back of her hair, trying to tame it, but only succeeding in pulling pieces of it loose from its pins. She was like a great sky bird, unsure of landing, fearing the hunter, and always more graceful, more confident in flight.

Fiyero still found it mesmerizing, after fifteen years. The wildness of her was like a drug he could not resist, no matter how capable he knew she was of shattering his heart. He leaned in and kissed her then, in front of everyone, just as the twister howled overhead and shook the world around them.

They emerged in a misting rain that floated helplessly from a gray and muted sky. The world was quiet, the wind nonsensical, as though it were as confused as everyone else as to what had happened. They all looked around, surprised to see the farmhouse and barns still standing. The animals were scattered, but still present.

"Looks like it tracked south," Wilbur commented, "Must've hit the pond and gave us an indirect blow."

"Well praise the Lord," Mae whispered.

Tessy reached down and picked up something shiny, looking puzzled. Suddenly realization colored her face. It was a fish, "I'd say you were right about the pond," she chuckled.

The others laughed a little, relaxing now that they knew that calamity had been kept to a minimum. Elphaba, however, had one very focused thought.

_Bala._

She ran around to the front of the house, searching for signs of her beloved animal. She called her name, raking her eyes over the tousled grass and ignoring the rain. Finally, when she reached the porch steps, Bala emerged from a hole in the latticework, unharmed. Elphaba scooped her up in a rare display of affection and asked, "Are the others okay?"

_Yes, the kittens are fine and the others took shelter. The horses were spooked and the cows couldn't care less. Typical of cows._

Elphaba cracked a little smile, "Be nice," she instructed, still amazed at how Bala had grown.

Fiyero rounded the corner of the house then. He crossed to Elphaba just as she dropped the cat gently to the ground, "Marry me," he asked again, refusing to let the subject drop, "bring the cat with you. Bring all the cats with you. Just marry me before nature takes another crack at us."

"Marry him," Mae ordered, approaching them with a sparkle in her eyes, "or I'll have you scooping horse manure for the next month. I've even got a white dress up in the attic, if you think of using clothing as an excuse."

Elphaba snorted, "Me? In a white dress?" she let loose a peal of laughter that turned Dorothy's head and stopped the farmhands in their tracks, "That's entirely inappropriate for more reasons than I care to discuss."

Mae turned serious then, closing the space between she and Elphaba, "Don't tell him no, Elphie. I know you're as wild as an unbroken mustang, but you've got to rest somewhere. Might as well be in his bed."

As usual, Mae knew how to read her, and how to reach her. Elphaba turned to Fiyero and threw out, "Tomorrow. Find a place and find a man of the law or the cloth or whatever this place requires. Today we've got to round up these animals and check on our neighbors. Any other decent person will be doing the same."

With that she strode off, leaving Fiyero to celebrate silently.

"You'll never tame her," Mae mused aloud, perhaps as a test.

"I don't want to," Fiyero stated.

And he meant it.


	26. Chapter 26: A Time to Dance

**1/27/10 - Did a re-read, along with some editing and reworking of this story. Sorry for the extra chapter update.**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 26: A Time to Dance**

Later that evening, Elphaba sat in one of the rocking chairs on the porch, watching the sun sink below the horizon. It looked tired tonight, as though the storm had sapped some of its strength, muted some of its brilliance. Still, the remnants of the storm clouds soaked up the waning light and gave off a hazy, purple hue, like they were lit from within. The glory of the western sky was perhaps the only thing Elphaba had truly embraced from her former title. There was something about the sunset, the last breath of each day, which captivated her. Perhaps it was the idea that she was watching the past slip through her fingers. With each moment, as the sun dipped lower in the sky, she was watching the day close, sealing forever what had happened, and promising that beyond the horizon was a new morning.

On this evening, she was struck by the fact that, if all went as planned, this was the last day she would spend as simply Elphaba Thropp. Tomorrow, she would wed herself to Fiyero, which was a tie that would bind them until death intervened. She could really call herself Elphaba Tigelaar. Upon her death, she would be more than just the former Wicked Witch of the West, more than the unsuccessful Thropp Third Descending. She would be someone's wife, the wife of an Arjiki prince, for those in Oz who cared to remember. It was a bit overwhelming, but the feeling was not entirely negative. It was a nice enough label.

Elphaba supposed this was not what most brides would be thinking about on the day before their wedding. She laughed a little to herself, because even such a normal event wasn't so normal when she was involved.

"Something funny?"

Elphaba turned around, startled. Tessy was leaning against the doorframe, smirking.

"We've established that perhaps I'm not entirely wicked, but no one has ever proven I'm not crazy," Elphaba threw out, still laughing to herself.

"A little crazy never hurt anyone," Tessy threw back, "So, are you dreaming of your perfect wedding tomorrow?"

Elphaba looked away, thoughtful, "I don't suppose I know what a perfect wedding is. I don't think I've ever considered a wedding of any kind," she admitted.

"Never? You never dreamed of a wedding? Even as a little girl?" Tessy looked stupefied.

"Green girls don't dream about getting married," Elphaba answered dryly.

Tessy looked suddenly compassionate, "Oh Elphie…we'll make you beautiful. I promise."

Elphaba had a sudden, prickly feeling, like a flashback or perhaps a touch of deja-vu. For a second, she was a young girl again, eighteen and quite naïve. She remembered Galinda, in all her fluffy, pink softness, hopping around their room chanting about marrying a handsome, rich boy. Galinda had tried to make her beautiful more than once. Elphaba supposed she was born too jaded for it to take.

"Elphie? Elphaba?" Tessy was asking, "Are you okay? You look pale…"

Elphaba sighed, "I'm sorry. I was just…remembering."

"Remembering what?" Tessy pressed softly.

"Someone…someone I cared a lot about," Elphaba started, haltingly, "Her name was Galinda. She was, I think, my first friend. She was my roommate, at the university…"

"Your first friend? At what…eighteen?" Tessy looked shocked.

"Green girls also do not easily attract friends," Elphaba spat.

Tessy's shock turned to compassion, "I'm sorry, Elphie."

Elphaba considered whether to continue, and then added, "I sometimes wish…that we had parted on better terms. We had different lives, she and I. I left her behind when I left school…because I couldn't stand for her to get mixed up in my life. I think I knew it would be a tragedy, somehow. The one other time we saw each other…I was incredibly bitter…" she let her thoughts trail off, already unsure as to why she'd said so much.

"She was your only friend?" Tessy finally asked.

"No, just the first," Elphaba answered, "There were four or five of us, when I was a part of the Resistance against the Wizard. Nyalana was the first person I really trusted in the whole, wretched Emerald City. She was dark-skinned, from the Vinkus, like Fiyero. She used to braid hair, hers and mine, in the most beautiful ways. I think….that you…remind me of her."

Neither spoke for a moment. Tessy was silent, touched by what was a rare, if indirect, compliment from Elphaba.

"I suppose I'm honored," Tessy finally replied.

"You would have liked her," Elphaba confessed before continuing, "There was also Frederick, but I don't think I was decent enough to him to say I was his friend. He deserved better…" she mused.

"It's in the past, Elphie…" Tessy gently reminded.

"I know," Elphaba looked far away, remembering, "I think my greatest regret is Malky. I never did get to give him a proper goodbye. He was the only thing that stood between me and crazy for a long time. And Zaar…I sincerely hope she's done something great. She had greatness in her…"

"Were they all part of this…Resistance?" Tessy asked.

"Yes…Animals. They were stripped of their rights, yet fought back. They were both Cats, father and daughter. One black, one white. They made me who I am, in a way. This constant drive to make things right, to change people who refuse to change, it was for them, I think…"

Tessy shook her head a little, "I believe you, but it's still amazing for me to think that in your world, animals can speak…"

"They have great things to offer and great things to say…or some of them did," Elphaba remembered sadly, "But then, some of them were every bit as rotten as humans can be…"

Elphaba's countenance took on a hard, steely quality that spoke of tears shed long ago. She was calm, but caught up in the memory of wounds that can never be completely healed.

"Elphie," Tessy finally spoke, "I admire you more than you know. I know you're not perfect, none of us are, but you've survived until now. You've lived to see the day when you can be with Fiyero, and make your own future, whatever that is."

Elphaba's face softened, and she considered her friend. She seemed to be struggling with her words, "Tessy…your life…it hasn't been any easier than mine. But you've given me courage…to admit to the horrors I've been through, to lay them to rest, somewhat. When I look back now…to Galinda and Nyalana, and now you…" she struggled to finish.

"Sisters aren't always bound by blood," Tessy supplied. her eyes welling up a little, "I think we've made each other brave…"

Elphaba nodded, "Thank you for forgiving me…for…Adrian. I suppose my impulses are something I've never reigned in properly."

Tessy shook her head, "It's the past. Thank you…for bringing me Adrian," she couldn't help shedding a few tears.

"And now this time I've made you cry," Elphaba teased.

"I don't believe there should be any crying today," they both jumped a little, and turned to see Mae come through the door, "Whatever are you both doing to make yourselves sad today? I want no more crying! We've had enough tears around here for a lifetime. Tomorrow is a happy day."

Tessy chuckled and wiped her face, "It's all right Mae, they're happy tears."

"Well, I suppose that's all right, then," Mae conceded, "Come with me, both of you, I have something to show you," she turned back toward the door, gesturing for them to follow.

Elphaba quirked an eyebrow, but stood to follow Mae anyway. Tessy was on her heels, curious. They followed Mae up the stairs, past the third floor and into the attic, which was nothing more than a small, dark room off the top of the staircase. As their eyes adjusted to the light, Elphaba could see that Mae had been digging through some of the trunks against the wall. Clothes were scattered about, and Mae emerged from the mess with an armload of white fabric. Whatever it was tried to spill out of her grasp in a waterfall of eyelet lace, satin, and taffeta.

"Here," Mae offered, "I found my wedding dress. Now, it's some forty years old, or more now, but I've kept it in good shape…"

Elphaba eyes widened as Mae unfurled the dress. It was beautiful, in its way. It had several layers of satin and tulle, and the skirt was covered in delicate lace, cascading in several layers of ruffle. The sleeves were puffed and beaded, and the bodice sported the same lace as the skirt. It was a dress fit for a young, beautiful bride who would be given away by a glowing father. It was the kind of gown that would make a young groom weak-kneed, as his bride-become-princess floated down the aisle of a perfectly decorated church. It was a beautiful idea, and the opposite of everything Elphaba could imagine for herself.

"Oh Mae…" Elphaba started, her expression troubled.

"What?" Mae furrowed her brow, "I know it's a bit dusty, but it'll come clean…"

"No, it's not…" Elphaba took a long breath, "It's not me. And I don't think it's Fiyero, either. It's a beautiful dress, but I'm not a young girl. I'm not…fluffy. And I think, more than anything, I need this to be about…me. Can you understand that?"

Mae looked a bit disappointed, but not entirely heartbroken, "Then what do you propose? And I'll fight you until tomorrow if you think you're going to wed Fiyero in a black dress!" she gestured towards Elphaba's current attire.

Elphaba looked down at her basic, dark, well-fitted, yet plain dress. She thought for a moment and then turned to go back down the stairs. Mae and Tessy followed.

"Wait, Elphaba. I didn't mean to insult you--" Mae started.

"No," Elphaba called back, "I want to show you something," she lead the way to her bedroom, where she rummaged through the wardrobe and pulled something from the back, "Do you think this will come clean?" she asked, holding out the ivory-colored dress she had been wearing the day Fiyero returned. It was, as expected, covered in muddy stains from the barley field.

It was Mae's turn to raise an eyebrow, "Well you've certainly done an excellent job of trying to ruin it…" there was a smile in her eyes, though, in spite of her berating.

"Can it be salvaged?" Elphaba asked again, not wanting to dwell on why her dress was so dirty, or to discuss the fact that Mae had helped to get it off of her.

"I'll try," Mae conceded, her expression softening, "Luckily, these aren't grass stains. I fear those would never come out, but are you sure this is what you want?"

Elphaba took a deep breath, "I want this to be about Fiyero and me, not about expensive clothes and crowds of people. Mae…it's never been my dream to stand in front of a crowd and listen to an over-romanticized sermon on love and marriage. I just want what Fiyero and I have to be real, to be legitimate. I don't want to be more than who I am…for once. I just want him and me, and the two of you, if you'll come, to be there. No big speeches, no pomp and circumstance, just the reality of what's happening."

Mae looked distressed, and Tessy looked a little disappointed.

"Elphie, are you sure?" Tessy asked.

"You just said to me downstairs that little girls are supposed to dream about their weddings. From what I understand, this whole affair should fall in line with what I want. What I want is to have Fiyero. I've never been one for ceremony or pageantry. I don't need frilly and lacy and loud and overdone. It's not who I am, and isn't that what matters?"

Mae appeared to struggle with herself for a moment, before agreeing, "All right. You're right; you should have what you want. And this dress is certainly more suited for you anyway. I knew that when I made it. But when the wedding is done, we get to celebrate. All of us. I'll get the farmhands to help me cook, and we'll have a proper celebration."

Elphaba was silent for a long moment, before she answered, "All right."

Mae turned to leave, and then looked back, her eyes misty, "You know…I never got to see my daughter married…"

"I know," Elphaba cut her off, "but no more tears tonight."

Mae smiled, and then hurried downstairs to plan her celebration.

Elphaba was up well past dark. She sat in the oversized window seat in her room, trying to read a book by lamplight. Finding herself unsuccessful, she stared out at the stars, trying to remember how they were different than those in Oz. Her mind swirled around in nonsensical circles as she tried to determine which direction her future was taking. She wanted to be with Fiyero, she was certain, but she was also certain that she was no farm girl. She wanted to grab hold of her life and do something, something other than hole herself up in a castle and go insane. She had been given a new beginning, and she wanted to seize it.

Fiyero walked in then, quietly shuffling through the door and crossing the room to sit just behind her. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his cheek against her hair, "You look lost," he commented softly.

Elphaba didn't answer immediately. She didn't want him to think she was second-guessing their relationship, "I'm considering your offer," she finally said, "I need to do something with my life. Maybe I do want to study veterinary medicine. Maybe I want to help Adrian understand the universe…"

She felt Fiyero bristle slightly at the mention of Adrian. Elphaba asked, "Does it bother you, what I told you about him and me? I didn't really intend it to hurt you, it's just…the truth."

Fiyero pulled her closer, "I don't love you any less, Fae. It's hard, to know that someone else has…been with you. Someone I respect and like and have no reason to hate. It's just hard to imagine sharing you at all. But I don't blame you. You thought I was dead. You had every right…"

"Fiyero…" Elphaba started, her voice catching, "was there anyone else? For you?"

Fiyero drew a breath, and Elphaba knew the answer.

"Wait," she stopped him, "Maybe it's better that I don't know. Maybe we should just leave it alone and move on."

"No," Fiyero argued, "We should know each other. We should be honest and love each other for everything we are. No more secrets for us, no more shadows or unspoken fears," he stopped and considered a moment, "When I first found myself here…I was alone and afraid and devastated at having lost you. I had an idea of what had happened, but no idea how to ever fix it. I was aimless for a little while, drowning my pain in liquor and a handful of women. I wasn't cut out for that, though. I'm too soft, too spoiled maybe. I started running across children living on the streets, or as slaves. I started a family that just grew exponentially. They think I saved them, but I really think they saved me…"

Elphaba heart swelled with affection, as her body welled up with an overwhelming desire to take hold of Fiyero and never let him go. He had so much goodness in him. She could never hold his mistakes against him, because he loved so deeply, so truly, and he could so easily admit it.

She turned to face him, and raised a hand to touch his face, to look into his eyes and feel her heart melt. She straightened up, so they were face to face, and kissed him. When their lips met, Elphaba felt her body surge with a heat that welled up from the deepest parts of her and traveled to the very tips of her fingers and toes. She wrapped her hands around his neck, twining her fingers in his hair as she drowned in the kiss. Her heart raced, and she was surer than ever that no one else would ever make her feel this way. Fiyero had a power over her that moved beyond just physical pleasure. He could bring her to her knees and make her tremble. He caused her to drop her sharp, hard exterior and lay herself out, vulnerable and needy, before him. It had always been more than sex, more than lovemaking even. He _knew_ her, in the biblical sense. The connection was so deep, so intimate, so personal and powerful that she was certain now that, for the past fifteen years, she'd been without a part of herself.

Fiyero pulled away first, breathless. His face gave away that his thoughts had traveled along the same line as hers, "Fae…" his voice was deep and saturated with feeling, "My god I want you. It's been so long..."

Elphaba smirked a little, "It's been what…two days?" she referenced the barley field.

Fiyero was too overwhelmed to tease, "No…that was a blur of emotion. I want to hold you and touch you. I want to see you, to look into your eyes and make love to you until dawn breaks…"

"You don't think we've gotten a bit old for that?" Elphaba quipped gently.

Fiyero kissed her again, and the warm, rushing response of their bodies disagreed. He pulled away, and she knew they were hovering on the edge of being able to stop.

"I mean what I said," Fiyero said softly, "I'll wait for you until you are my wife."

Elphaba smiled at him, which was her way of showing how much his promise meant, "So what do we do now?" she asked.

"Go jump in the watering trough?" Fiyero joked.

"It would certainly kill the mood," Elphaba answered dryly. She leaned back against him, mostly content. After a moment, Fiyero carefully pulled away and stood up.

"I almost forgot…" he said, crossing the room to fish something from his coat pocket. He came back to her and held out his hand to show her what he'd retrieved.

"When I was in town, making sure someone would marry us, I got these. They're not much, but then, I know you're not much for fancy jewelry. They're a little conventional, but I just hope you'll wear it, for me."

Elphaba realized he was holding out two rings, both silver, both very plain. They were polished to a shine, but were without ornamentation or gemstones. She took the smaller in her hand and studied it, and realized there was an inscription on the inside. She held it closer to read it.

"What does this say?" she finally asked.

"Fiyeraba," he admitted sheepishly.

"And what is that?" she asked with a slight smile.

"It's…us," he answered, "It's me and you, joined together forever. It's us so close together that we're one person, one soul…one name."

Elphaba chuckled, "It's a little…cute, don't you think?"

"Maybe," Fiyero admitted, "but the jeweler offered to engrave them and it just seemed…nice."

"It could grow on me….Fiyeraba," she finally conceded, "Although I can't imagine anyone else ever calling us that. It's very…" she stopped, realizing what it reminded her of.

"Very what?" Fiyero asked.

Elphaba swallowed, "It's very Galinda," she finally answered.

Fiyero didn't say anything for some time. He finally offered, "You miss her, don't you?"

Elphaba nodded, "She deserved better from me. The way I left her in the carriage, the years of silence, and the way we fought…I wish I could make it right."

Fiyero considered, "Maybe you can…"

"What?"

"Well, you can go back. Maybe you don't need to stay there, maybe we're not meant to live in Oz, but maybe you have some unfinished business. Maybe you should see Galinda."

Elphaba let the idea roll around inside of her. It was tempting. She desperately wanted to know that her friend had a good life. She wanted to know how she had fared after the Wizard had left. She considered whether she could return to her friend without upsetting all of Oz. And then, there was another thorn in her side.

"Liir," she finally said, "I'd like to know what's become of him."

"I'd like that, too," Fiyero admitted quietly.

"We have decisions to make," Elphaba stated, "Your family is waiting for you in White Springs. They need you."

"I know," Fiyero agreed, "and we'll go to them. We'll decide what's right, for all of us. But for now, for tomorrow, I plan to marry you."

They went to bed then, curled up with each other under the starlight, considering what the next day, the next week, and the next year held for them.

The following day, Mae made good on her word. She gently told the others that Elphaba wanted her ceremony to be private. She then hurried the household into action, preparing for a true celebration. Aunt Em was convinced to let Dorothy stay one more day, and even Myra came when called upon to help. Elphaba was overwhelmed by it all, and stayed in her room most of the morning.

Just after lunch, she washed up thoroughly and brushed her hair until it shone. She laid out her dress that Mae had managed to clean and did her best to prepare herself for a wedding.

Fiyero scrubbed himself clean and went into town to get a good shave and shoe shining. He stayed away from the house, letting the others fuss while trying to observe the custom that he shouldn't see his bride until they wed. It seemed a little conventional, but some things should be, he decided. He got a light lunch and met the pastor of Mae and Wilbur's little church at the church house just after noontime. He shook the older man's hand and thanked him for what he was doing.

"I know this is pretty unconventional, but I appreciate it," Fiyero said.

"Well, I don't believe in denying anyone the privilege of marriage. We haven't had colored folk in the church till now, but times are changing. They need to change. People will come around to accept it. That, or they'll die off and it won't matter," the pastor had a twinkle in his eye as he spoke.

"Well, I appreciate your feeling that way," Fiyero added, "I think we'll do the vows right out here, where the wildflowers grow. Elphaba is fond of nature…"

"It's your choice," the pastor said, "Do you have rings?"

"Yes," Fiyero answered.

"Fine. I'll do the vows, then the two of you can do the rings. Say what you like to each other. I'm not married to convention on that aspect," the pastor instructed.

"Thank you," Fiyero offered.

Just a short time later, under the warm, afternoon sun, Fiyero saw Mae, Tessy, and Elphaba making their way toward the church. It was a clear day, like only a storm can create. It looked as though the world was lit by a bright splash of cerulean ink, tossed across the canvas of the sky. The sun set the fields afire in hues of amber and gold, and the rich smell of spring promised new growth, and new life.

As Elphaba came closer, Fiyero's breath caught. She was wearing the same dress she'd worn when he'd first seen her in the barley field. It was ivory, as he remembered, and left her arms bare so that her emerald skin was set off by the color of the soft fabric. She had pulled off her boots to walk barefoot across the soft grass, and she'd clearly let Tessy fix her hair. It was pulled up loosely, with curls piled atop her head. The bottom portion fell around her in dark waves. She'd let Tessy put little flowers in her it, which was a beautiful effect against the ebony color of her hair.

When she got close enough to speak, she threw out, "I know…it's all a bit girly for me."

Fiyero couldn't answer, as his heart leapt up into his throat. Elphaba seemed to understand, and she smiled at him, "You don't look bad herself," she teased, but her eyes told him she meant it.

The pastor and the four of them gathered together amidst the wildflowers then, and he began by reminding them all of what the Bible had to say about the enduring nature of love. Then, the pastor read the traditional wedding vows, having both Elphaba and Fiyero repeat them. It was nice, Fiyero thought. They were timeless words.

_I take thee Elphaba, to be my wedded wife,_

_To have and to hold, for better or worse,_

_For richer or poorer, in sickness and in health,_

_Forsaking all others, for as long as we both shall live._

Then, Fiyero took out the rings, and gave his to Elphaba. He held hers in his hand and took a breath, "I'm going to be a little untraditional about this now," he said as an explanation, "and if you want, you can do the same," he offered. He slid the ring on her finger and said, "Fae…there's no one else in this world like you. There's no one else in Oz like you. But I am more convinced now than ever that it has little to do with being green, or being a child of both worlds. You're the only person who makes me feel complete. Perhaps our beginning was rocky, but I love you. I love you no matter who you've been or what you will become. I will love you when the passion is gone and we are old and fading. I need no one else, ever," with that, he choked himself up and couldn't say anymore, for fear of the tears falling.

Elphaba studied him, turning his ring over in her hand and absorbing his words. She looked awestruck and wide-eyed, and then she smiled. It was a rare, genuine smile. It lit up her face, and proved she was beautiful.

"Fiyero," she whispered, "I need you. You saw it in me the first day…we loved each other. I needed someone to show me that love exists. No one would envy your mission, to love a wicked witch. It has been hard, I have been hard. But I need you. For me, that is more significant than to say I love you. I need you," she slipped his ring on his finger then, and Fiyero kissed her, without waiting for the pastor's approval.

After concluding the ceremony and exchanging long hugs with Mae and Tessy, they signed the papers the pastor had brought to make their wedding official. Elphaba was not nearly as afraid as she had imagined. She smiled in spite of herself as they made their way back to the house.

What waited for them filled Elphaba with humble gratitude. Mae and her farmhands had filled the kitchen with food. The whole house was alive the scent of fresh corn bread, biscuits, warm gravy, fresh pies, roasted vegetables and sweet corn. She'd even baked a cake with real sugar and sweet frosting made from honey. Mae had cooked no meat, out of respect for Elphaba's love of animals. Wilbur had asked a few of the men from town to bring their instruments and play dancing music, and some of their children played with Dorothy in the yard. Elphaba went straight to Mae and embraced her, unable to speak her gratitude.

"We've come a long way," Mae simply said, "from when you wouldn't dare to smile at me…"

Elphaba nodded, and allowed herself to be led by Mae to where the food awaited. It was a truly splendid party, and all involved feasted well and danced until the sun began to sink below the horizon.

As the others began to leave for the night, Elphaba found Fiyero in the living room, talking with Adrian. They were good men, both of them, she thought, to have made their peace. She pulled Fiyero up from the sofa and laced her fingers through his. She looked at him with smoldering eyes, and he knew. He followed her to thank Mae for all she had done, and to thank Tessy for witnessing their wedding. Without a backward glance, they climbed the stairs.

Elphaba pulled Fiyero into her bedroom, their bedroom, and shut the door. She latched it with nimble fingers and drew the curtains shut. Fiyero lit the lamps, and Elphaba met him at the foot of the bed. She crashed into him, kissing him with an unbridled fervor that nearly sent him reeling onto the bed behind him. He pulled away though, taking her hands to calm her.

"No," he said softly, "I won't rush this. We have no time limit, no drafty weather creeping in, no hidden agenda or spouses lurking in our subconscious. We have no government spies or terrorists brushing our doorstep. This is you and me, all of us…"

Elphaba touched his face then, studying his features and the dark, rich hue of his skin. She carefully pulled away his shirt and ran her hands over his patterned skin, taking in each diamond. She studied the scars, as though she could heal him, and their past, with her touch.

Fiyero ran his hands over her bare arms, relishing the softness of her skin. He kissed her gently, and carefully pulled the flowers from her hair. He slowly undid the buttons on her dress and let it fall to the floor. She had long since kicked off her shoes, and he slid away her undergarments. He kissed her again, and she reached up and pulled the pins from her hair. Elphaba knew he loved that.

Fiyero stepped back and looked at her, and had to close his eyes for a moment to keep from losing all control. When he opened them again, she stood there, bathed in flickering lamplight. When they had last been together, she had just begun to let him see her naked. They had had maybe two rendezvous in the milky light of the corn exchange before he'd been attacked. The memories didn't do her justice. She'd always been thin, but her time in Kansas had given her more curves. Her skin glowed a rich emerald; her hair tumbled to her waist in a luscious, ebony cascade. She was older, she bore a few more scars, and her body was softened and changed after having bore a child, but her eyes still captivated him. Their rich, dark color drew him in as she watched him.

"You're staring," she finally whispered.

"I can't stop," he finally choked out, "Sweet Oz, Fae…you are indescribable. For so long I truly believed I would never see you again. Do you realize…that I've never seen you like this? In the light?"

"Fiyero," she breathed, and kissed him. She ran her fingers through his hair and over his bare chest. She loosened his trousers and freed him of his clothes. She ran her mouth over his body, exploring and torturing him at the same time.

He finally pulled away and picked her up. He carried her to the bed and laid her back against the pillows. Fiyero kissed her deeply, pressing his body against hers and drawing a moan from deep within her. He ran kisses down her neck, and let himself touch her breasts and the soft skin of her stomach. He kissed all of her, twining his fingers through hers as he worked his way to her thighs. He ran his hand over her hip and down her leg, catching sight of the scars she'd so desperately tried to hide from him in the corn exchange. He touched the inside of her thigh, still angry she had to live with the tangible memory of such horrors. He looked her in the eyes, silently pleading with her to trust him, and then he pressed his lips to the inside of her thigh.

Elphaba felt her body tense, and for a moment she panicked. She had never been so exposed, so naked and uncovered and vulnerable. She had barely begun to let Fiyero really know her body when they had been separated. She forced herself to calm, though, and sunk back into her pillows.

Fiyero's breath on her body was warm, and yet she shivered as he kissed the inside of each thigh, and then let his mouth explore the folds of the most intimate parts of her. She gasped, as the sensation was entirely different than even the pleasures she'd know until now. She trembled as her body ached and responded with a rush that made her feel as though she'd lost all control. She was exposed and vulnerable, and yet she felt riveted to the spot, caught up in the power of a feeling that defied what she knew about lovemaking. Finally, she surrendered to the uncontrollable waves of pleasure from this experience she had so feared.

Fiyero pulled away then, and worked his way back up to her mouth. Elphaba kissed him and moved from beneath him to press him against the pillows. She covered him with her body and felt the heat between them. She remembered the moment in the corn exchange, with the blanket between them, when she knew she would make love to him. So many years later, she wanted him just as much. She took him inside of her then, and relished the feeling of their bodies, fitted so perfectly together. She worked kisses over him and moved against him until he finally pulled away, and gently turned her over. Their limbs tangled in the quilts as he made love to her, pressing his dark skin against hers, kissing her open mouth and taking in the intoxicating scent in her hair.

He could feel her body climax, and he had to brace himself as his body responded. Fiyero was frozen, unable to move, a complete victim of Elphaba Thropp-Tigelaar and her ability to send him half way to heaven. He was breathless and speechless when he finally looked into her eyes. Her chest rose and fell and her body was covered in the shimmer of sweat from fervent lovemaking. Fiyero kissed her gently, because there were no words.

They lost themselves in each other that night, whispering in the darkness, and then holding each other. At some point, Fiyero found Elphaba's oils, which were no longer a necessity, and he covered her in their soft scent, relishing her body, willing in his hands. She tormented him, with her long, exquisite fingers. They tumbled together, pressed each other against the quilts and the wall and drowned in the feeling of each other. They were one flesh, one mind, one soul. And in the light of dawn, they slept together, facing a future that wasn't yet written.


End file.
